Full Circle
by The Mosh Pit
Summary: As a new Dragonborn steps blinking into the light of a new life as a destined servant and protector, old secrets from the past begin to reveal themselves, and an opportunity to heal the wounds of the past presents difficult choices for a young and inexperienced soul. Note: May not get off the ground, sort of experimental. We'll see how it goes :/ Follow-on from previous.
1. Chapter 1

'How I wish I could be there to see it.'

Virdanyis smiled at Teldryn's gentle words as the pale moonlight shone through the still branches of the forest trees. It was summer in The Vale; the sweet and subtle fragrance of little flowers and fresh pine needles laced the sweet night air.

Virdanyis' son Sahren was in his eighteenth year; tomorrow, he would be crowned as reigning monarch of the New Falmer Kingdom.

Virdanyis knew that Teldryn would come to see him on this night; to sit and talk as they used to before everything had changed.

It was so strange to look at him now that he was dead.

The change he had gone through had not created as many differences as Virdanyis had anticipated; the same voice was still there, the same personality. He appeared as he always had, except for his eyes; the bright orange and yellow eyes which glowed in the twilight, burning with a quiet and tempered power.

He could sometimes see the long fangs when Teldryn spoke or laughed, but they were subtle. And even though Virdanyis knew that Teldryn was now a creature of the night - and a terrifyingly powerful one at that - he had never felt endangered by him. He was, to him, the same as he had always been - the friend who had always been at his side during his battles and hardships, who had shared his joys and sorrows, who would make fun of him for not being able to hold his drink.

They never spoke of the circumstances surrounding his vampirism.

Virdanyis only knew that Sahren and his sister, Serenwen, thought that their mother had died in childbirth, and that Teldryn had gone missing after they had come to The Vale. He knew that Nysteris, who had turned him, had received her curse directly from Molag Bal; it would stand to reason that Teldryn's affliction would have granted him greater strength and abilities than a common vampire. He was not the same as the wretched and fevered creatures which lurked in the cold and dark crevasses of Skyrim's wilderness; he was different.

It was a tragedy. But it had not stopped Teldryn from seeking out the companionship of his friend; something that seemed to soothe and calm him.

They would talk for hours about Sahren and Serenwen; about politics in The Vale; they would laugh and reminisce, still sharing the same pipe they had used eighteen years ago, packed with the same perfumed tobacco.

'He's nervous,' Virdanyis said quietly, smiling as he spoke. 'He was in rehearsals all day yesterday. Gelebor is more excited than any of us.'

'Of course,' Teldryn smirked. 'That man has had the patience of a saint trying to pass that crown on.'

'Serenwen is taking it well enough, considering what's being asked of her.'

'Oh, I've been watching.' Teldryn turned his gaze toward the ground as the sat on the fallen log, a hint of concern passing across his face. 'I hope she understands...'

'She has a good heart.'

Teldryn smiled to himself as he recognised Virdanyis' attempt to comfort him.  
He already knew that Serenwen did not bear her mother's dark streak; she did not relish in slaughter and bloodshed the way Nysteris did. It had been one of Teldryn's greatest fears; that the next Herald would inherit the darkness of her mother.

Her vices were typical of one her age; she loved men, money, getting up to trouble. She was her father's daughter. And Teldryn did not want to stifle her in her early years; while Sahren had inherited the throne, he had not inherited the dragon blood. And not unlike vampirism, being Dragonborn was a curse of sorts in itself: while granting incredible power, it bound her to a life of servitude and constant conflict; and it would eventually break her heart when the time came when she fell in love. She would never be able to know the peaceful life of married bliss, or the sweetness of motherhood.  
So, if she wanted to enjoy her youth while it was still hers, before she began to live the life of a guardian, so be it.

'She will be at the ceremony tomorrow?'

'Yes. Hopefully. Well, I would expect so.' Virdanyis drew on the pipe, meeting Teldryn's gaze as he continued to speak. 'You know, I have a very discreet viewing room from which to view the ceremony. Private balcony. Shaded. If you should change your mind.'

The vampire smiled warmly, his teeth barely visible through his slightly parted lips as his eyes glowed in the darkness. 'You shouldn't tempt me.'

'Well. The offer is there if you should decide to take it.'

'...as is mine, old friend.' He stood, extending his hand toward the snow elf as he prepared to leave. 'Maybe I'll see you tomorrow. To behold our new king.'

'I look forward to it.'


	2. Chapter 2: Bandit

'I can't believe you did that. Where have you been?'

Sahren shook his head slowly as he stared at the fresh tattoos on Serenwen's pale grey face. 'You look like a bandit.'

'Shut it. I got them in Blacklight. They're cultural, the same as dad's. You aren't Dunmer. You wouldn't understand. You never said that dad looked like a bandit.'

'Dad did look like a bandit. And you aren't full blooded Dunmer, Serenwen.'

'I'm sure you'll find a way to forgive me.' She smiled widely, her mauve eyes sparkling brightly as she spoke and her big, pierced ears poking out garishly from beneath her messy, shoulder-length black hair. 'I'll keep my face hidden during the ceremony.'

Sahren smiled back at her, his icy blue eyes glimmering with affection as his long white hair flowed down over his shoulders and down to his belly. His Ancient Falmer cuirass was highly polished and carefully detailed; his spear was waiting by the chamber doors to be carried onto the balcony for the coronation. 'If you say so, Big Ears.'

Serenwen stood up and stretched lazily, yawning widely as she spoke in a distorted voice. 'When does it start?'

'At noon. You've still got a few hours to sleep.'

'Oh, thank Azura.' She murmured dryly.

I smiled to myself as I watched them silently from the shadows of the hallway where I was hidden.

Serenwen looked more like me than ever before now that she had the same tattoos.  
I was secretly thrilled that she identified so strongly with her Dunmer heritage. She grew to be more like her father with every day that passed.

I longed to step out from the shadows and manifest so that I could tell Serenwen how fantastic I thought her tattoos were, and tell Sahren how proud I was of the young man he had become. But in the shadows I would remain, admiring them from afar; my lovely, troublesome daughter and the noble young snow elf who called himself my son.

Serenwen sniffed loudly as she grabbed an apple from the gilded bowl next to her and bit noisily into it while she made her exit. 'Wake me up for the good part. When Gelebor's finished talking.'

'You're terrible.'

Serenwen grinned and raised a hand as she closed the door behind her, chewing with her mouth open.

I watched Sahren as the room became silent after Serenwen's departure as he slumped in his chair and sighed quietly.

I could hear his heart beating in the stillness; hear the sound of his breath. He was anxious.

He had his mother's large eyes; they swirled with uneasiness as he blankly stared at the wall in front of him.  
It was a great responsibility to take on at such a young age.  
While Serenwen had grown up almost exclusively in Morrowind, Sahren had been required to make frequent visits to The Vale, spending a large part of his childhood there, learning of his people's culture and being trained to one day become their ruler. There had not been much time for leisure.

I was absently reminiscing when I heard a quiet knock upon the door; Sahren's head quickly raised as Virdanyis entered the room, closing the door gently behind him.

'Hello uncle.' Sahren smiled warmly as he greeted the general.

It seemed strange to me that they addressed each other the way they did.  
Sahren knew that Virdanyis was his biological father; he also knew that his own conception had been a result of an arranged pairing, and that Virdanyis' role now was no different to any other member of the court where it concerned the young prince. But they nonetheless shared a close bond; and as they sat next to one another in their chairs, speaking in the Falmer tongue, they seemed almost too perfect together. It was an endearing sight.

I couldn't understand what they were saying to each other; I had never become adept at understanding the Falmer language. But I recognised the letter which Virdanyis gently passed over to Sahren as he spoke; the one I had written yesterday.

Sahren eagerly unrolled it and quickly began to read as he began to speak to Virdanyis in common. 'Will he be coming to the ceremony?'

Virdanyis' eyes momentarily flicked over to where I was standing in the dark hallway shadows; he paused briefly before he spoke.

'I'm certain that he would be here if he could. Nobody really knows where he is. But I know that he is very proud of you, especially today.'

Sahren smiled sadly as he read the letter; moments of silence passed as he stared into the paper, deep in thought.

'I miss him.'

I felt a pang of sorrow sting my heart.

If only I could be there to comfort him. As a father, and not the undead monster I had become. I wouldn't want him to see me this way.

'Serenwen's not coming,' Sahren said matter-of-factly as he straightened himself and changed the subject. 'Her friend tells me she's planned a trip to Whiterun hold tomorrow. She's leaving today; in fact she may have already gone. She doesn't think that I know.'

Virdanyis smirked. 'At least she'll miss Gelebor's speeches.'


	3. Chapter 3: The Road

I watched on anxiously as Serenwen happily whistled and bounced along the road on the way to Whiterun.

She wore steel armour with black fur and linen underlay; the bag on her back was full of gold and kynsin. Nothing else. I sighed in exasperation.

What did she think she was doing? Where was she going? She didn't even have a healing potion. Or a bedroll. Or food...

There were bandits all over these roads. She was a foolhardy, female teenager, travelling alone on foot while carrying a significant amount of coin. It was a blatant invitation to be raped and mugged, at the very least. I thought I'd raised her better than this.

The night had drawn in. I saw her hunch over a little as the wind picked up and blew through the empty fields by the river, sending ripples through the long grass and across the water's surface.

There were torches burning in the distance; I could see figures moving on the hillside as they held the flames aloft.

I just could not believe how stupid she was being. It was embarrassing to watch.

I drew a little closer to her as the figures began to come toward us; four men. Two Redguard and two Nords, wearing steel armour and carrying weapons.

I recognised them for what they were immediately; mercenaries. Big, scarred men, unwashed and stern; their eyes were serious and tired as they strode toward Serenwen with their weapons drawn.

I braced myself.

Serenwen didn't know that I was with her; but I would defend her if I needed to.

'Hail.' The man's voice was deep and gruff; he frowned as he stopped in front of her and raised his torch, examining her face.

'Hello, gentlemen,' she said brightly, her big purple eyes glowing in the torch light. 'Nice night for it.'

The bigger Nord scoffed as he looked at her face. 'What are you supposed to be?'

'I could ask you the same question.' She was mildly irritated by his words.  
She did look unusual; during her childhood she had spent much time deflecting barrages of curious questions from people about her lineage and appearance. There was no Dunmer in Morrowind as pale as she was, and no Falmer in The Vale as dark; and the purple eyes and big ears made it even more confusing. The fact that she preferred to wear male armour did not help.

'We're looking for someone. A Breton man, travelling on this road. Have you seen anyone?'

'No. Only a khajiit caravan. Nobody with them.'

There was a brief silence as the men stared at her in mild surprise.

'You're out here on your own, elf?'

'Yes. I'm going to visit Jorrvaskr in Whiterun.' She smiled proudly, the rings in her ears jingling ever so faintly as she cocked her head.

'The companions?' The men began to laugh. 'Are you looking to become a mead wench or a maid? Not many elves who would want to join their ranks.'

Their laughter rang out loudly in the still night air as I slowly drew closer to them, hidden by the darkness.

The companions? Why would she want to visit the companions? It seemed almost sacrilegious considering their history with the Falmer.  
She was still so young; I felt a pang of guilt. I wished that I could go with her to keep her safe - in a more overt configuration.

But the entire reason why I had decided to become a vampire was so that I could protect her: not from her bad decisions - there was no escaping those - but from the wrath of one whom I could never hope to protect her from as a weak mortal man. And it was decisions like the one she was making now which seemed to make that an ever growing risk.

Nysteris would be furious if she ever found out that Serenwen hoped to join their ranks. Although she carried no love for her children - she did not know them - the idea that any Mer carrying Snow Elf blood would even consider joining the ranks of Ysgramor's five hundred would send her into a rage.

Oh, Serenwen. What would I ever do with you?

'It's very dangerous out here, little elf; There are bandits and cut throats everywhere. You're very stupid to be travelling alone. We could have killed you.'

'But you didn't.' She grinned widely; the two Redguard smiled back at her.

'You're missing the point, girl.' The big Nord folded his arms and scowled down at her, his dirty blond hair hanging limply over his shoulders. 'You might not be so lucky next time.'

She waved dismissively at them as she walked away, talking loudly over her shoulder. 'I'll keep that in mind.'

The men shook their heads and muttered as they began to walk toward me, away from Serenwen.

I quickly manifested from the cloud of mist I has been hiding in as they passed; I flashed them a vicious grin as I strolled by, my eyes meeting theirs as the light of the torches reflected from my ebony armour.

'Gentlemen.'

I heard them gasp in horror as I quickly hid myself again, and Serenwen turned upon hearing the noise of the mercenaries' shouts; I smiled as I watched her brow furrow in confusion as they began to run.

She would get to Whiterun safely.


	4. Chapter 4: Sweetest Darkness

'And then you pushed me onto the bed...'

I smiled as I lay on my side next to her and ran my hand down the smooth, bare curve of her body. She gave me a dark smile, her crimson eyes lighting up as she looked into mine.

'Yes...?'

'And I kissed you...'

Nysteris leaned forward, the moonlight reflecting from her glossy black hair as she parted her lips and her eyes rested on my mouth. I gently touched her neck as I continued.

'You were so eager. And lovely. I can still remember the way your cheeks blushed and your hands felt on my skin. Like a waking dream.'

'Don't tease me.' She ran her cold fingers up my bare chest as I lay on my side, propping my head up with my fist. Her voice was gentle and pleading as she spoke. 'Tell me what you did.'

I grinned at her as I spoke. 'I thought of all the things I could to do to you as I put my arms around you and you began to sigh.' My voice was a low purr. 'You started to slide your hand down to undress yourself and I became fevered.'

She leaned in to kiss me, the tips of her long canines catching the moonlight as her red eyes glowed. I leaned in to meet her kiss, stopping so close to her that I could feel the energy jumping between us.

'...and then I politely refused your advances because I didn't want to take your chastity.'

I grinned at her widely as she frowned and her dark red eyes flared with annoyance. She sighed sharply. 'You're terrible at this.'

'I know. You should punish me, sera.' I pinched her mischievously as a small smile crept across her face.

It was a beautiful and still night as we lay together on the mossy earth in the pine forests of Falkreath. The night air smelled as sweet as it had ever been; the pale light of the moon cast long shadows across the grass and fallen branches as we basked in one another's presence.

I saw her differently now that I had allowed her to turn me.

While I had been sickened by the evil of her aura when I had been alive, now that we were together in unlife it was almost as it had been before. I had to woo her all over again; I would tell her of all the times we had been intimate during our travels and trials, of all the times she could not remember. It was darkly thrilling to see her interest and arousal build as I recounted each moment in explicit detail. I enjoyed it as much as she did.  
My affection for her had not dimmed, even though I had to consider her as a threat to my Serenwen. I still saw the same beauty when I looked at her, changed though it was by the corruption of Molag Bal; I still felt the same sweet ache in my heart when my eyes met with hers. I often wondered what it would take for me to ever give up my addiction to her.

My time with her tonight was limited as always. Her master would summon her back to Cold Harbour soon; he always did when he became aware of our trysts. We would need to take what we wanted from each other quickly.

I raised my face to meet her as she leaned in to press her lips against mine; I gently pushed her shoulder to rest her on her back on the moss as I bore over her and slid my arm underneath her back, becoming tangled in her mane of hair.

I felt her hands run across my skin as I lowered my head to kiss her neck; she sighed softly as my lips touched her cold, white flesh.

It had seemed so wrong to me at first. So unnatural and evil.

But I was what I was. And so was she. We were two lost souls caught in orbit around one another, and what had once seemed so wrong was now so fulfilling. We didn't care.

I heard a little gasp come from her as my teeth punctured the firm skin of her neck; I felt a predatory rush of adrenaline flow through me as the first taste of her blood touched my tongue. I exhaled in pleasure and squeezed her harder underneath me as the intoxication came in its first wave and my head began to swim.

Hers was the only blood I had ever tasted. I would go for days or even weeks without feeding until I could see her again; by the time we reunited, I was rabid and would often force myself upon her, pinning her to the ground or against a tree and sinking my teeth into her neck, my knees becoming weak as she smiled wickedly and chuckled lowly into my ear, murmuring things I could barely make out through my state of euphoria. Sometimes she would make me beg; other times she would latch on to me and drain me to the point of death before allowing me to have her.

It always ended the same way; with both of us lying on the ground, panting for breath with blood smeared all over our faces. It was horrific; but the pleasure of it was incomparable.

I closed my eyes and allowed myself to be swept away as I swallowed deeply and I felt the exquisite pain of her bite on my throat. I moaned quietly as I felt her thrust her hips up toward me.

My pleasure addled mind drifted to a time when she was mortal; when we had found a pure and excruciatingly precious joy in each other's embrace, awash in the beauty of mortal weakness and love.

I felt her blood trickle from the corner of my mouth as her fingers worked to undo my belt.

I would find a way to save us. There had to be a way. I longed to see that beautiful blue gaze of hers resting upon me again with that look of sweet benevolence in her eyes.

I would have it back.


	5. Chapter 5: Meeting

_Beloved daughter,_

_I know that this letter will come as a surprise to you. I have been absent for some time now, and I understand that you may be displeased with me because of it. I wish I had more time to explain to you, but we will have our chance to talk in private._

_Please, go with Elrindir to The Drunken Huntsman. You can trust him. He and his brother Anoriath have been friends of mine since before you were born, in the days when your mother and I were in Whiterun. I will meet you there._

_To prove that this letter is genuine, I'll take the opportunity to remind you of the time you woke up in a cave with three septims in your pocket and a sore backside after your seventeenth birthday. As long as Elrindir hasn't read the letter, it will still be between us. If he has - sorry. That's what happens when you don't listen to your father._

_I love you, yi merdekhes dalder._

_Dad_

Elrindir smiled innocently as he watched the flare of pink flourish on Serenwen's cheeks.

'Do you believe me now?', he asked politely, cocking his head to the side as she screwed up the letter in embarrassment and glared at him.

'Did you read it?', she mumbled in a low voice, quickly glancing around her beneath the beautiful, great tree to watch for onlookers.

'No. Didn't you notice that it was sealed?' He smiled again, his light brown hair falling about his shoulders as he moved his head and his narrow, dark brown eyes widening a little as he looked at her. His calmness was helping to put her at ease; she, like her father, had always been fond of Wood Elves and their friendly demeanour. 'You are so much like Teldryn. No wonder he's proud of you.'

She smiled in spite of her embarrassment and surprise.

It was getting dark. The city guard patrolled the streets with their torches raised high as people began to close their stalls. She glanced over at Jorrvaskr; the place she had been headed for before Elrindir had approached her.

He was still there. The Dark Elf she had locked eyes with as she had walked up the steps from the market toward the Gildergreen.

He was leaning against the doorway to the drinking hall, his lined face frozen into a serious frown; his red elven ponytail moved slightly in the breeze, and his pale Dunmeri warrior tattoos bent slightly as he squinted his vivid red eyes at her. His stillness was perturbing.

Serenwen met his stare with her own as she murmured to Elrindir, the smile still upon her face.

'I'm Serenwen. But I guess you already knew that.'

'And I'm assuming that you already know that I'm Elrindir. It's truly a pleasure to meet you. I knew your parents well.' He smiled warmly as he nodded his head vaguely toward The Drunken Huntsman. 'So, have you decided to come with me? I don't want to keep your father waiting. Or Anoriath. He won't do any work if I'm not there.'

She turned her gaze from the dour looking Dunmer waiting outside Jorrvaskr and beamed at Elrindir as she felt a rush of excitement flow through her at his words. 'He's already here? Dad?'

'He is. He's anxious to see you.' He smiled widely as he turned to walk, beckoning her to follow him. 'Come on. Let's go.'

It took concentration for him to keep up the illusion; especially since Anoriath insisted upon drinking increasingly potent varieties of alcohol as they sat in the warm room together and laughed, talking about times past.

'You have a habit of aiming for the ass.' Teldryn grinned widely as he leaned back in his chair and drank from the tankard of mead, raising his eyebrow at Anoriath as he rested his ankle on his knee. 'That poor, long-suffering brother of yours.'

The Wood Elf laughed loudly, his white teeth gleaming in the sconce light. 'Do I now? Watch out. I haven't met your daughter yet.'

'Oh!' Teldryn's red eyes became wide as he pointed a finger at Anoriath. 'Now that wasn't funny, You dirty little Bosmer.' The wide smile on his tattooed face betrayed his amusement. 'If you ever get as far as having a daughter of your own, I'll be waiting.'

Anoriath scoffed. 'Hah. Not too many Bosmer women in Skyrim. Elrindir wouldn't be able to run this place in his own anyway.'

'You're lucky to have each other. You've managed to keep this place running for many years with your mutual efforts. You've done well.'

He sighed softly. 'I suppose.' A small, peaceful silence passed between them. 'My heart is still in Valenwood. I long to return there.' His amber eyes flicked up to look at Teldryn. 'Do you ever miss Morrowind?'

'Sometimes. But I never spend enough time away from it to get too morose. Skyrim can be a harsh place for outsiders.'

Anoriath smiled. 'Id have thought you'd left the harsh life behind you. There can't be too much misery between Blacklight and the Falmer palace.'

Teldryn gave a small, sad smile; he cast his eyes down to his tankard as he swirled its contents idly. 'You wouldn't think so.' He took a long drink before speaking again. 'You never know what fate has in store.'

'True.' Anoriath could tell that it was time to change the subject. Teldryn was more emotive than most Dunmer, but the signs were still subtle; it was a situation of necessity which had brought him here in the first place, and if he wished to discuss the finer details, Anoriath assumed that he would have done so already.

'So, this daughter of yours.' He drank before continuing. 'She needs our help?'

'Not yet. I've got it covered.'

'Of course. I have to say I'm curious to see her. She's half Falmer isn't she? Quite the rarity.'

'There are plenty like her in The Vale. The Redoran guard... Integrated quite well after their arrival, you see. Snow Elves are very curious about the other races. They don't get out much.' Teldryn smirked to himself.

'Really? You'll have to take me there sometime.'

'Indeed. The hunting is good.'

Anoriath smiled widely and chuckled as he brought the wooden pipe to his lips and inhaled; a dark grin passed over Teldryn's face as he considered how ominous his comment would have sounded if the Wood Elf had known that he was speaking with a vampire.

And he would never find out; moments like this where he could bask in the presence of a dear friend were precious to him, and too valuable to put at risk. They were a sweet indulgence in an existence which had become dedicated to the pursuit and protection of others.

And things were not about to become easier.


	6. Chapter 6: Daughter

'Dad...?'

I heard her voice trembling mildly with excitement as she pushed the door open to the dark room and looked around; Elrindir gave a small smile over her shoulder and turned around to return to the counter with Anoriath.

'Why is it so dark in here? Dad?'

I felt a ripple of anxiety rush through me as I concentrated and cloaked myself with the illusion spell which would hide my vampirism from her.  
I took a deep breath as I stood to greet her and lit the sconce next to me on the table with a gentle flame spell; the warm feeling of paternal love that welled up within me as I looked at her caused a smile to appear upon my face.

'_Yi merdekhes dalder_! Oh, how I have missed you.'

She ran into my arms as I finished speaking and I squeezed her tightly.  
_Yi merdekhes dalder_; my beautiful flower. I had called her that ever since she was a baby. They were the first Dunmeri words she had ever learned.

'I missed you so much...'

I could hear the tears welling up in her voice as she pulled away from me and angrily thumped my chest with her fist, glaring up into my face with glazed purple eyes. 'Where did you go? You didn't even say goodbye! How could you do this to me?'

I felt a deep sadness wash over me as I cradled her face with my gloved hand and gazed into her eyes; I could see the pain and betrayal in her face as she stared at me, her lip beginning to tremble.

'I'm sorry.' The words emerged from me in a whisper; shame and regret tainted the sound of my own voice, making it seem strange and alien to me. 'I never wanted to. I love you.'

'You've got some explaining to do.' She stepped forward and rested her head on my chest again, and I lightly kissed her forehead and stroked her shiny black hair.  
'I know.' The warmth of her living skin only saddened me further; I wondered if she could feel the coldness of mine in return as I rested my chin on the top of her head and murmured. 'And I will explain. You know I'd never leave you without a good reason.'

'It had better be a really, really good one, dad. Seriously. I'm still mad at you.' She sniffed loudly; I smiled softly to myself in spite of my guilt.

'Alright. Let's see if I can convince you to forgive me.' I stepped backward and smiled down at her as I squeezed her arms; she shot me a dry glare as she gave a crooked smile and wiped her nose on her sleeve.

'Ugh. Disgusting.'

* * *

The hours passed by in a bittersweet excitement. She shoved roasted venison into her mouth and gulped down a tankard of mead as I watched her in mild amusement and patiently answered her questions as best I could without going into too much detail; she rolled her eyes and wiped the grease from her mouth as I chided her.

'You didn't go to your brother's coronation, Serenwen. That was poor form. Very disappointing.'

'You didn't go either.' Her voice was muffled as she spoke through a mouthful of meat. 'You can't get on my case about that.'

'I was there.' I widened my eyes as I stared at her, leaning back in my chair with my arms folded over my chest. 'Your own brother is crowned king and you can't be bothered to show up?'

'Dad, just don't.' She glared at me lazily as she chewed. 'How do you think it feels for me to watch something like that when I know I'm only going to have a life of fighting to look forward to?'

She was right. I nodded softly and cast my eyes down as I conceded her point.

'It is your glory as well as your brother's, murjhul. You can take pride in it.'

'Hmph.' She picked a scrap of sinew from between her teeth and flicked it away. 'I know what I'd rather be doing.'

'Really?' I smiled. 'I thought you'd prefer to be the one with two dragons at your beck and call.'

'You know they don't like me much.' She paused before continuing. 'Were they like that with mother?'

The question caught me off guard.

The truth was that I didn't understand how it worked.

Nysteris was dead, and when she had been a vampire previously, Naslaarum and Voslaarum had been untamed. Now she was dead again; But they were docile. And while her herald's soul remained anchored in her body, it meant that Serenwen could not be the next herald; the sacred soul was trapped within Nysteris and could not be reborn into another.

Serenwen was Dragonborn; but she was not the new herald. I could see that now.

Did Nysteris still control the Avatars?

I didn't know.

As much as I enjoyed this time with Serenwen, sitting here with her and talking, just being near her; it was time to begin the difficult part.

'Serenwen.' My voice was quiet and soft. I sighed gently. 'There is something... Something that I ought to show you.'

I watched her frown slightly as she wiped her mouth again and watched me carefully remove the tattered letter from my bag and place it in front of her.

'Your mother left this letter for me to find before she left to give birth to you and Sahren.'

I remained silent as I saw her surprise, and she reached out to pick it up and read it.

This was going to be painful for both of us. I was not looking forward to it.

_Teldryn,_

_It pains me to write. As Seithring and Adelbhor watch me, oblivious, I transcribe the words which I know will break your heart as they break mine._

_By the time you read this letter, I will be gone._

_As I have often said to you, my love, true leadership requires sacrifice; and the time has come when I cannot delay the sacrifice I have been forced to make any longer._

_Since my return from the battle of Winterhold, I have been plagued by the presence of Molag Bal._

_He has been waiting since the beginning for a chance to claim my soul; since long before you and I first met each other in The Retching Netch. For over a thousand years.  
My vampirism of years past had tethered me to him, just as my cure enraged him._

_The bloodshed I wrought in Winterhold, along with other previous actions, not only caused me to lose the favour and protection of the benevolent gods - it also aroused the excitement of my tormentor, and my fragile state after the fighting was over provided the opportunity he needed to take root.  
I have been plagued by nightmares ever since that night; dreams of agony and torture, of rape and defilement at the hands of the ones I love and trust the most. Dreams so vivid and real that I often could not tell if I were sleeping._

_As The Lord of Domination has worked to break my mind, he has threatened to destroy everything that I hold dear - My Kingdom, my people, my lover, and my children._

_I know that I wield great power; but there is no mortal force in this world that can stand against the wrath of a Daedric prince. I cannot fight him._

_As I have often feared throughout my life, holding the things I love close to me has only brought them into the path of unimaginable danger - as the princes fight over ownership of my soul, they vie to find leverage to stake their claim; if not Molag Bal, then Mehrunes Dagon, Hermaeus Mora, Namira or Boethiah; even Sheogorath._

_There was a reason that no Herald before me was allowed to love, to rule, or to bear children; it is now painfully clear to me why this was._

_A soul with power such as mine must never be given the luxuries of such things, lest they be used to force them into the servitude of the evil._

_And so it has befallen me. I was not wise enough to foresee it._

_In exchange for a promise to leave my children, lover and kingdom untouched, I will submit to Molag Bal._

_I do not know what fate awaits me as I prepare to enter Cold Harbour. But it is almost certain that I will die; I may never see you again._

_I can feel myself slipping away, Teldryn. With each day that passes, I grow weaker and a little more filled with his influence. I fear for the safety of those I hold dear; not only for what may befall them from the Daedric Princes, but from what I may do to them - and you - as my mind begins to dissolve. The children will be returned to The Vale; I do not know if they will be cursed with the dragon blood. But I pray - in futility - that it will not be so._

_I am sorry. I do not know how to find the words to assure you that I do this because of my love for you.  
I beg you not to come after me, even though I know that you will try; you must stay with the babies. I don't want to hurt you._

_Gelebor is to lead the kingdom until the heirs are of age; if they are doom-driven, I beg you - take them far away from The Vale, and never let them rule._

_Please forgive me for the things I may do when I can no longer remember you; I have never stopped loving you, and I never will._

_Nysteris Agarwen._


	7. Chapter 7: No Good

'That's him. Teldryn Sero.'

Athis nodded slightly, his deep voice resonating in the air as he gestured in the direction where Teldryn and Serenwen stood in the town market, browsing the stalls for supplies.

'The war hero from the battle for Winterhold?'

'More than that. Man was a General for House Redoran in Blacklight. One of the best Dunmer warriors in living memory. He's a legend in Morrowind. Captured that dragon up in Dragonsreach when Jarl Balgruuf was alive.'

'Hmph.' The dark-haired Nord man leaned against the Gildergreen and scowled slightly at the pair of elves as they milled about the market; the odd-looking girl was chatting to a city guard in the bright sunshine while the tall, muscled Dunmer stood beneath the shade of Anoriath's stand, his face shadowed by a heavy hood.

'Word is that the girl is his daughter. She came here to sign up with us.' Athis raised the flagon to his lips as he continued to stare down at them, tiny drops of mead flecking his red beard.

'Well. She won't be getting in by riding on her father's reputation. Girl has to show she can fight.'

'So you'll give her a chance then? Ha. I thought you didn't like the idea of elves joining up, Vilkas.'

'I don't remember ever saying that. I only said that I can't understand why they'd want to. Makes no sense to me.'

'We've been through this before.' Athis frowned at the ground as he tossed out the dregs of the mead, the long red hairs of his ponytail blowing around his face as he spoke.

'You're an Ashlander, Athis. Your kind have no history with us.' Vilkas stood way from the Gildergreen as he folded his arms and squinted down at the town marketplace, his pale eyes fixed upon Teldryn's silhouette. 'But if that is Teldryn Sero's daughter... She'd be part Snow Elf. He was the Dragonborn's consort.'

'You've done your homework.' Athis murmured as he followed Vilkas' stare. 'That explains the looks.'

'Now why a Snow Elf would ever want to become a Companion... There's the mystery.' He stretched his neck idly as he turned to head back up the stairs to Jorrvaskr. 'No good can come of it, friend. Mark my words.'

* * *

'Dad. More coins.'

Serenwen grinned gleefully as she stroked the edge of the sword and ran her fingers over the bound hilt, her eyes lighting up with excitement. The burly young man behind the stall leaned forward and grinned smugly as he passed his eyes over her and nodded his approval.

'You can get better steel at the Sky Forge.'

She turned around quickly at the sound of the unfamiliar voice, her hair fanning about her and her earrings jingling quietly.

Athis frowned at her and narrowed his eyes slightly as he spoke, examining her face. 'I can tell you're new here if you'd buy weapons from the War-Bears before the Gray Manes.'

'Get out of here, Athis! You're bad for business.'

'Quiet, you s'wit.' He returned his focus to Serenwen, the look of mild surprise still planted on her face. 'So, are you still going to waste your money on that?'

'I know you.' She absently reached behind her to put the sword back onto the stall, ignoring the owner's protests. 'You were outside Jorrvaskr last night.'

'So were you.' He paused for a moment, transferring his weight as he observed her. 'Any reason?'

'None that concerns you, stranger.' She smiled at him with a sarcastic sweetness as she passed her eyes over his armour. 'Just curiosity.'

'Those tattoos. Did you earn them?'

Her eyes widened as she stared at him in surprise. 'Excuse me?'

'You're making quite a boastful statement by parading around with those on your face. You claim that you're a warrior then?'

'Yes.' She glowered at him as he smirked at her. 'I'm proud of it.'

'Ha. You barely look old enough to brandish a blade.'

Serenwen seethed and clenched her teeth as she pierced him with a ferocious stare. 'You'd be surprised.'

'Maybe I would.' The smirk stayed planted firmly on his face as he continued to talk. 'You could always show up at Jorrvaskr and prove it.'

'I don't think so.'

Serenwen jumped slightly as she felt a heavy hand rest on her shoulder and she heard her father's low, calm tone. 'I'm afraid we have other commitments which take priority over scrapping in a glorified mead hall.'

'Muthsera.' Athis dropped his smirk and straightened his posture. 'It's an honour to meet you, General Sero.'

'And the same to you, companion.' Teldryn stepped forward, coming to rest just close enough in front of Athis to make him uncomfortable. 'Although I must say that I'm a little disappointed to see one of your members harassing teenage girls in the marketplace. And a Dunmer one at that. The last time I heard, the Companions were about honour, correct?'

'I wasn't trying to upset your daughter, serjo.' Athis was nervous; he had not expected to be confronted by Teldryn. He had assumed that he had escorted his daughter here for the purpose of allowing her to try out; he hadn't anticipated resistance. 'I intended to invite her to prove her worth at Jorrvaskr.'

Teldryn was irked to see a spark of interest light up in Serenwen's eye as Athis finished speaking. He frowned.

'I see.' He lowered his head slightly to pierce Athis with his stare from beneath his hood as he continued. 'Then it's just as well she doesn't need to prove her worth to you or anybody else. I can assure you that she has earned her tattoos just as I have earned mine.'

'I believe you, serjo. My offer still stands.' Athis again transferred his gaze to Serenwen; she leaned forward with an excited and crooked smile on her lips, the same spark of thrill in her eye.

'Fair enough. Come on, Serenwen. Time to leave.'

Teldryn turned to walk away and gripped her hand firmly to bring her with him; she held Athis' gaze for as long as she could before almost tripping and following along after Her father.

'I know what you're thinking. You're not going there.' Teldryn's voice was a low growl as he led her away from the marketplace and toward the gates, taking long strides to reach them.  
Serenwen felt a flare of offence blaze in her chest, followed by a sense of indignation. 'What? Why not? You can't order me around. I'm a grown woman.'

'Ha!' Teldryn have a short laugh of genuine amusement as he continued to walk toward the gate, firmly bringing her with him. 'We've still got much to discuss. I can promise you that I have a very, very good reason. We'll talk more when we get to Bleak Falls Barrow.'


	8. Chapter 8: Nightmares

It was coming again. The dream; the same dream which had haunted him ever since the first night.

The battle of the Moesring.

The sky was overcast and foreboding in its darkness; the cold wind blew quietly through the long locks of the battle-scarred Atmorans as they suddenly became still, their blood-stained weapons lowering to their sides.  
The sounds of war became eerily silent as the snow fell around them; the last army of the Snow Elves stood, their silver armour and white hair stained with blood. Their spears were slick with gore and their chests heaved from exhaustion; they were the last defenders of their kind, and their dead lay mutilated and scattered on the ice at their feet.

But they were electric with anticipation; although they faced defeat at the hands of Ysgramor's armies, there was a hushed and powerful excitement that rippled through them as they parted their ranks, and made way for their leader; The Snow Prince.

His horse was as white as the snow around it and bore a brilliant but faint aura of light as it slowly walked forward, bearing the great leader on its back.  
He was a fearsome sight to behold.

His elven eyes were pale blue and without pupils, radiating with a magical light as his silver hair cascaded in a shining stream over his shoulders; his armour was wrought of silver and white, the powerful ripples of strange and ancient Snow Elf magic radiating from it like glowing waves of heat as he rode forward, and his men made way.  
His face was frozen into a hard scowl as he stared at the Atmorans in an unblinking trance.  
He was a sight unlike any other the Atmorans had ever seen; ethereal and frightening, yet bearing an aura of grace and tempered power. His presence washed over all on the battlefield like a wave.

His general rode a short distance behind him, his high, white ponytail and narrow golden eyes almost glowing in the dim light as he followed the Snow Prince to the front line; he bore scars from previous battles on his flesh, some so fresh that they were still a vivid pink.  
He raised his chin with a determined pride as he respectfully followed his leader, and the faintest smile broke upon his face; as though he was smugly anticipating the bloody onslaught that he knew was about to unfold. His faith in his lord was unwavering and unshakeable.

The Atmorans stood their ground and shifted hesitantly as the deep silence settled over the battlefield; a thing of such anomaly and rarity that it swayed their confidence.

The Snow Prince drew his spear as his horse stopped at the front line, and he spoke a single word to his General, bidding him near in a calm and firm voice:

'Sahren.'

The General came to stop at the prince's side and brandished his spear as a great booming chant rang out from the now fevered and joyous Snow Elves, their bloody faces wild with anticipation.

It was about to begin; the Atmorans watched on in awe as the prince slowly raised his spear.

And as he whipped it back down again, a great crack resonated through the air as a brilliant blue ripple of magicka rushed out from him; a vicious storm of snow and ice swirled around the elven warrior at its epicentre as he rushed forward into the enemy ranks with unnatural speed and ferocity, and the General roared at his men to charge.

Terror. Fear. Hopelessness. The crushing horror intensified with every moment as limbs were severed and the Atmoran heroes were slaughtered like cattle at the hands of the Snow Prince and his newly inspired men.

It was a scene of panic and hysteria; the blood kept flowing as the strongest of the Atmorans fell at the tip of that terrible, spinning spear...

And as Vilkas woke in his bed, his face and chest hair slick with sweat and his eyes wide as he gasped and sat up, fighting for breath, he saw her again, if only for a moment.

The black hair; the snow-white skin. The huge, pale eyes that had once been green were now blood red; the evil, frenzied smile was planted upon her lips as ever before she faded away.

He did not see her often. He didn't even know if she was real, after so many years of the same torture every night since he had accepted the beast blood.

He had woken before he had seen the death of the Snow Prince this time, and the brutal slaughter of his general at the hands of Ysgramor's men.

But the effect was the same.

He felt his heart thundering in his chest as he panted for breath and ran his fingers through his wet hair; as he stood up naked to go to the water basin, his eyes quickly flickered about the room.

He was alone.

He closed his eyes and sighed as he splashed the water onto his face and it trickled down his bare body and pooled on the floor at his feet.

It was no different to any other night. His tormentor was not going to reveal herself.

'Are you alright?'

Farkas leaned against the door frame at the entrance to Vilkas' room, his big, muscular arms folded across his broad and densely forested chest as he frowned at his brother. His worn leather trousers were also wet with sweat; his hair was limp and dampened.

'Yes.' Vilkas slowly turned to sit back down on the bed, covering his nakedness with one of the furs on his bed as he ran his hand over his face. 'Nothing new.'

'Did you see her again? I did. I saw her last night too.'

'Don't dedicate your energy to it, Farkas. It isn't worth giving it what it wants.'

'Yeah.' The bigger man paused and scowled slightly as he stared at his brother. 'Did it say anything?'

'No. It never does and it probably never will. You know that.'

'I can feel it getting closer, brother.'

Vilkas turned to glare at Farkas, water dripping from the tips of his hair. 'Don't get carried away. You can't afford to let yourself break. Toughen up.'

'I think it's a vampire.'

Vilkas stared at Farkas in surprise. 'Do you now? What would make you think that?'

'It tried to bite my neck. It turned into mist when I went to grab it.'

'It did what?'

'It tried to...'

'I know, I know.' Vilkas growled quietly as his brother's words turned in his head. He buried his face in his hands as he murmured.

'Go back to bed, brother. We'll deal with this tomorrow.'

'Alright.' Farkas stood away from the door frame, his wide silhouette blocking out the light from the hallway. 'Stay strong.'

'...yeah.'


	9. Chapter 9:Force

'Go on. You can do this. I'll be right here with you.'

Serenwen looked up nervously into my face as I smiled softly at her and placed a hand on her back, gently guiding her toward the word wall; her violet eyes glimmered in the cold light streaming down from the hole in the stone ceiling in Bleak Falls Barrow.

'What do I do? I don't...' She stepped backward hesitantly, eyeing the wall suspiciously as she felt its ancient power subtly resonating within her and luring her forward.

'All you need to do is read it, little one. It won't hurt you. I've seen your mother do it a thousand times.' I ruffled her hair with my callused hand as I grinned down at her. My voice dropped to a low murmur. 'Come on. Don't be a milk drinker.'

'Can't you hear it?' She almost whispered as she continued to stare at it warily. 'It sounds like... Like chanting.'

'No. I can't, murjhul. I'm not Dragonborn.' I took her hand in mine as I slowly began to walk past the empty stone sarcophagus and toward the strange carvings in the wall; she gripped the edge of my chitin gauntlet with her long grey fingers as she gingerly let me lead the way. It made me smile.

We had killed a considerable number of bandits who had taken refuge in this place in order to get this far. She hadn't hesitated to bury her arrows in their chest, and had even taken on a couple of them hand to hand, using the skills and fire spells I had taught her. It was a perversely proud moment for me to watch her in action; I had trained her well. What she still lacked in strength, she made up for in speed and agility, proving to be a difficult target to land a blow upon. But now she was filled with trepidation as she approached this ancient place of power, clinging on to my arm like a little girl.

It must have been overwhelming for her.

I saw her eyes squint and glaze over ever so slightly as she read the words, and her hand reached out to touch the stone; a kind of focused delirium overtook her as I saw tiny ribbons of pale blue light leap out from the rock and wind around her fingers. I watched in patiently as a sudden breeze blew her hair around her face and her eyes became wide, the slivers of light quietly splitting as they travelled up her arm and covered her body.

I saw Nysteris in her then; that sweet curiosity and strength that she used to possess that I had once found so endearing in her.

I squeezed her hand softly as the wind calmed, and she stood there, still wide-eyed and open-mouthed, comprehending the strange new understanding that was flooding her mind.

'Do you feel it?' I asked her quietly.

'Yes... Force.' She whispered the words as she looked up at me and frowned. 'What happened?'

'Not much. Yet.' I dropped her hand as I reached over my shoulder to put my sword on my back. 'You've learned a word of power; but you can't use it. You need something else before you can do that... Something that will be a bit harder to get.'

I winced slightly as I felt a nauseating and painful wave of hunger and bloodlust wash over me; my muscles ached and my eyes throbbed as I tried to suppress it.

It had been almost a week since I had seen Nysteris. I needed her blood. I was starving.

For the briefest moment during my distraction, I neglected to maintain the illusion spell; I suddenly became aware of Serenwen's concerned glare as she observed me, and I quickly threw it back up.

'Dad...? Are you alright...? You don't look well.'

I gave her a weak smile.

'I'm just hungry and tired, murjhul. I'll survive.' I turned to head toward the narrow stairway which would lead us away from this place, secretly worrying that Serenwen would catch on to what I was hiding; I ignored my hunger and focused my efforts on appearing normal.

'Let's go back to Whiterun and get you fed. We've got a lot to do.'


	10. Chapter 10: Defiance

Serenwen glanced around her nervously in the glaring daylight as she stood at the doors of Jorrvaskr, clutching the polished silver Snow Elf sword in her hand.

Her father had left from The Drunken Huntsman during the night, explaining that he needed to do some things before they went to find the dragon they would need to kill; he would be gone for around two days. He'd left a generous purse of coin behind and instructed Elrindir and Anoriath to keep an eye on her, but it hadn't been hard to evade them since they were both so busy with their businesses.

The guilt at disobeying Teldryn's instructions hadn't lasted long.

He'd raised her to be a fighter, and had always taught her that to become the best, she would need to observe and learn from everyone around her. Everybody knew that The Companions were skilled warriors and heroes; they were famous throughout all of the holds. Serenwen chose to see it as using her initiative to better herself rather than an act of deliberate defiance against Teldryn.

She took a deep breath as she pushed open the doors and cautiously entered; the smell of beer and roasting meet slowly flooded her nostrils as the great table of the hall came into view, lit up by the fire pits.

Servants and underlings milled about, cleaning and performing domestic duties. Some men and women sat in the far corner, brandishing flagons of beer and mead as they laughed and talked amongst themselves; although their armour marked them as warriors, they did not seem to be as intimidating as she had anticipated.  
It was something of a relief.

She raised her chin high as she confidently strode toward them, trying her best to hide her nervousness.

'What are you doing here?'

The deep, growling voice startled her as it resonated behind her; she gave a small gasp as she quickly spun around and bumped into the solid, armoured bulk of a man's chest. A little cry rang out from her as she fell heavily on her backside and looked up at him with wide eyes. The room became quieter as the drinkers noticed the commotion and paused to observe.

He was huge. His shoulder length, dark brown hair was slightly matted and his thick but short beard covered a strong and wide jaw; his full lips were frozen in a serious frown as his pale eyes stared down at her and she sat at his feet, the dark, smudged paint surrounding them giving him an intimidating appearance. He folded his muscle-bound arms over his armoured chest as he patiently waited for her to respond.

She struggled to maintain a calm tone as a mild panic and embarrassment burned in her chest.

'I... Uh... The Dunmer who lives here. I'm here to see him. Please.' She stood up slowly, trying to maintain the shred of dignity she had left while brushing herself off.

'He's not here. He went out to help some villagers with a Sabrecat problem.' He rested his eyes on her weapon as they stood in front of each other. 'Nice sword.'

She realised then that he had not intended to intimidate her with his approach; he was simply greeting her. His imposing appearance and low, growling voice made him intimidating regardless of his intent.

'Thanks.' She smiled at him innocently before pausing awkwardly, unsure of what to do next.

'Athis told me about you. And your father. If you've come to sign up, you probably shouldn't be here; We don't want to disrespect the wishes of a war hero.'

'Don't worry about that.' She smiled through her annoyance at coming across an obstacle so early in the plan. 'I've only come to look around and say hello.'

'Are you a dark elf? I can't tell.'

Serenwen frowned. He was very direct, but didn't seem to be trying to offend. Maybe he was just oblivious.

'Yes. From Morrowind.'

'Hah. No wonder Athis noticed you then. We don't see many dark elves in Whiterun.' He gave a faint smile; his eyes almost glimmered a little as he spoke. 'You can wait for him here if you want. He should be back soon.'

She beamed. 'That'd be perfect.'

'What's your name?'

'Serenwen.' She extended her hand toward him; he gave her a wary glance before he completely engulfed it in his own and squeezed hard, making her wince.

'Farkas.'

* * *

'I knew it. I knew you'd show up.'

Athis almost smiled as he strode through the doors covered in dirt and spotted her; she stood up and stopped picking at her nails as he addressed her. 'Glad to see you made the right choice, girl.'

'I've been waiting here for hours.' She spoke in a deadpan tone as she glowered at him, stretching her neck slowly. 'You'd better make this worth my while.'

'Ha! Look at that, Farkas. Barely set foot in the hall and she's already running her mouth.'

Farkas gave the same faint grin he had shown earlier as Athis continued, pausing to observe her. 'You've come to show us what you've got then. How old are you?'

'Eighteen.'

'Eighteen?! By Nerevar. You're only a baby.'

'You invited me here.' She glared at him as she frowned slightly. 'Do you want to let me try out or not?'

He nodded as he raised an eyebrow, scanning her with his eyes. 'Alright then. We'll go easy on you, Maple Seed.'

She recoiled slightly in offence and annoyance as she registered his comical insult at the size of her ears. It wasn't as if she hadn't been called 'Maple Seed' before; she'd been teased by the Falmer children in The Vale about her apparent resemblance to the dual-winged seeds which were carried by the wind from the maple trees in the spring. The problem was more that it was such an obvious resemblance that Athis had come up with it independently, and was rude enough to say so.

'Come with me. Finya!' He yelled out over her head. 'Come outside. Got a whelp to try out.'

Serenwen stared on with a blank look of composure as the woman sighed and stood up from the benches where she had been drinking mead with the others. 'Can't you do it yourself, you lazy bastard?'

'Just get out here. Stop complaining.'

'An elf? Really?' The young woman gave a sour look as she walked alongside Serenwen, eyeing her distastefully.

'Shut it.' Athis shrugged off the insult and pushed open the doors to the courtyard to let them through. 'Take her over there. Have a bout, see how she is. Farkas and I will watch.'

Finya sighed again and rolled her eyes as Serenwen stood still and squinted at her. The elf felt a rush of adrenaline flood through her as the Nord woman drew her sword, her blonde hair blowing slightly in the wind as she walked to reach the clearing between the practise dummies.

'Here are the rules.' She spoke to Serenwen dryly as she turned to face her. 'No magic. No aiming for the head, and no gouging. You got that?'

'Understood.' Serenwen grinned as she drew her sword and adopted a fighting stance, stretching her arms behind her as she prepared. Though she was secretly disappointed that she hadn't been allowed to fight Athis himself, this young woman with an attitude problem would no doubt be easier to handle. 'Let's go.'

Finya leaped into action immediately, clenching her teeth and growling as she rushed forward with her sword raised high over her head.

'Rrrrrrargh!'

It was almost confusing for the elf. It seemed too easy. Her father had been training her since she was old enough to hold a wooden sword and stand on her feet; to charge ahead in a straight line with your weapon raised to expose your chest and abdomen was the reckless act of an idiot. She frowned and squinted in mild bewilderment before sidestepping and bringing the silver hilt of her sword around to connect with Finya's back; Serenwen nimbly hopped around behind the older girl as she twirled her sword and assumed the stance, watching the Nord woman gasp and stumble onto the dirt.

Finya snarled quietly as she stood up and braced herself again, staring at Serenwen with anger as she gripped her sword.

The elf was much quicker and nimbler than she had anticipated. She had thought she would be sparring with an inexperienced novice; she realised now, as Serenwen came running toward her and bounding from side to side with her silver sword held in front of her chest, that she had underestimated her opponent.

Finya raised her sword defensively to block the inevitable blow; instead, she felt a sharp pain in her forearm from a rapid blow as the tip of Serenwen's sword wound around Finya's blade and ripped it from her grasp, disarming her; she barely had time to catch her breath before she felt her feet being violently swept from underneath her and a foot being firmly planted on her chest. When she opened her eyes, the air knocked from her lungs, she saw the tip of Serenwen's sword pointed at her neck. The expression on the gray-skinned Elf's face was one of confusion and annoyance; as though she didn't understand why Finya wasn't fighting properly.

'Woah! That's enough.'

Athis and Farkas approached from beneath the sheltered spectator area as Athis continued. 'We get the idea. Well done, Maple Seed.'

Serenwen looked up, still confused as she took her foot off Finya's chest and became at ease. 'Was that it?'

Farkas smirked broadly, snorting a little as Athis raised an eyebrow.

'Well. Looks like your daddy was right. You did earn those tattoos.'


	11. Chapter 11: Revealed

'Don't lie to me, murjhul. I know you went there.'

I was angry.

I watched her hug her knees sheepishly as she sat on her bedroll next to the fire and averted her gaze.  
I should have known better than to leave her unattended in Whiterun; I cursed myself for allowing my hunger to draw me away from guarding her.

I knew she didn't understand why I was upset.

I sighed as I watched her, her face flushed with embarrassment.

'Do you think I'd forbid you from doing something like that without a good reason?' I asked her. She looked up at me, the firelight reflecting in her eyes, making them appear like two liquid pools of violet.

She never spoke to me when she knew she was getting justifiably scolded.

'You're Dragonborn, Serenwen. I know you didn't choose it. But your destiny is greater than the Companions, and it lies far away from them. You court disaster by entertaining yourself amongst their ranks.'

She only blinked at me as she listened. I felt a wave of pity and guilt wash over me.

'I know what it's like to be young and thirsty for adventure and glory. Gods, I was already a mercenary at your age.'

'Did you listen to your parents?'

'No. But I wish I had more often. It was only as I grew older that I realised that you only truly become wise when you understand how little knowledge you really possess.'

She tilted her head, only mildly engaged in what I was saying. 'I don't understand why I can't be Dragonborn and be a Companion.'

I sighed again, casting my eyes down. I had been wanting to avoid this conversation; but I couldn't postpone it any more.

'You remember the letter I showed you from your mother?' I murmured quietly, staring into the fire.

She shifted uncomfortably.

She had recoiled in horror and anguish upon reading it, and we hadn't spoken if it since. I had assumed that Serenwen had realised what the letter had implied: that her mother was still alive - in a manner of speaking - and was now a being of great evil.

It had conflicted greatly with the stories she had heard about Nysteris while she was growing up as a child: the legendary Dragonborn, the saviour of The Vale, the Herald of the Snow Elves and slayer of Alduin, who defeated Miraak and saved Skyrim from the Thalmor, who rode into battle on the backs of dragons and could tear a man apart with her voice.

Now she knew that her mother was impure and wicked to the core; regardless of the glory of her past deeds or her reasons for doing it.

'She became what she is now because she was Dragonborn. She presented too much leverage to the Daedric Princes and Lords, and eventually, one of them seized it. She is to Molag Bal now what Miraak was to Hermaeus Mora.'

I had told her the story of Miraak many times. It was an important cautionary tale for a young Dragonborn gingerly setting foot in the world for the first time; a sobering demonstration of what results from the misuse of power.

'The difference is that your mother was not a willing subject. Molag Bal had to threaten her with the destruction of everything she held dear, and to keep her obedient, he took her memories of her family. You, Sahren, Virdanyis and I; it was all as if we had never existed.'

I heard her sigh softly into her knees.

'You know what I've told you about the nature of the Dragonborn, Murjhul.'

'Yeah.' Serenwen murmured absently to herself. 'Doom-driven.'

'Yes. And if it should ever occur that two of them should meet... You know what happened to Miraak.'

She suddenly frowned and raised her head to stare at me as she understood what I was implying.

'She's... She's going to kill me?'

'No. Not if you or I can help it, little one. You are still so young and new; but you wield the same power as she does. You are perhaps the only one in this world who truly can stop her now.' I felt sorrow grow within me as I beheld the look of fear on her face. 'And we will make you strong.'

'The companions can help me, dad. They're strong, too...'

'What do you know about the companions, Serenwen?' I asked her in a stern monotoned voice.

'They're heroes.' Her voice was hesitant, as though she could tell that I was going to shatter her hopes.

'And I can bet that a Nord told you that.'

She nodded cautiously. I sighed.

'The Companions are cursed, my dear. Not many know of it. But that is not the only reason that I don't want you going anywhere near that hall... Jorrvaskr.'

She looked so sad and ashamed of herself as I spoke; I wished it could have been easier for both of us.

'You know that Ysgramor nearly destroyed the Snow Elves entirely. Your grandfather Sahren died fighting alongside the Snow Prince at the Battle Of The Moesring; it nearly broke your mother's heart. She was only a little girl when it happened.'

'She was alive...?' Her eyes widened.

'Yes. We'll get back to that.' I felt even more awkwardness build within me as I continued. 'The Companions that you are so desperate to join - They were Ysgramor's most faithful soldiers. They slaughtered your ancestors by the thousands. And although none of the companions alive today were responsible, they glorify the act of genocide as something almost holy. They are so proud of it that they desperately cling to the shards of the ancient weapon he used to slaughter the Falmer as if it were a thing of greatness.'

I saw the look of shock and realisation dawn on Serenwen's face as I quietly continued.

'Nysteris wanted revenge on Ysgramor. When she was around your age, she left to find him and take his head. But she was too young and naive; inexperienced. She was captured and made into a vampire. She remained that way until I met her thousands of years later.'

'What does this have to do with the companions...?' She asked hesitantly.

'Think about it, Serenwen.' I stared at her from across the campfire. She remained oblivious; I almost winced at her naivety as I was forced to continue.

'Your mother hates the companions with a passion more fervent than almost any other. She blames them for the genocide of her people and the death of her father. To her, they are keeping alive and glorifying the horrific memory of the brutal slaughter of a noble people and the taking of their native lands. And she has been terrorising them ever since.'

'What?' She stared at me in horror and fear. 'How?'

'I am certain that Nysteris had a hand in brokering a particular deal that was made between the companions and a coven of very old and powerful witches long ago, although she never admitted it to me. In any case, she has actively prevented anybody from curing the condition which the companions suffer from by protecting the Glenmoril Witches' coven. And she went further; she went into the Underforge long ago and tainted the sacred vessel there with her vampire blood.'

She only stared in stunned silence as I continued.

'As a result, the inner circle members of the companions are cursed with horribly turbulent spirits, plagued by nightmares of her creation, and only able to die by violence whereas they would once fade away with age. She would sometimes go to their chambers to wallow in their misery and even drink their blood; once she became cured, their troubles did not cease. I don't think I need to tell you what she will do if she finds you in Jorrvaskr, little one. If she doesn't try to kill you for being Dragonborn, she will do it in a fit of rage at having her own daughter and a bearer of royal Snow Elf Blood become a Companion.'

I could see tears welling in her eyes again as her hands began to tremble; she looked up at me with such fear and pain in her eyes that it almost broke my heart.

'How could you leave me? How could you just abandon me for so long... When you knew...'

I almost lost my own composure then as I leaned in to embrace her; I felt the bloody tears welling up in my eyes as I squeezed her and she began to softly cry.

'I did it for you, _yi merdekhes dalder_... To keep you safe. Please... forgive me...'

It was too late to hide it. The drops of blood were running down my cheeks and staining her shoulder through the fabric of her clothing.

She felt the wetness; she broke the embrace and looked up at me in surprise through her own tears. She had never seen me cry before.

And the look on her face when she saw what I truly was; I will never forget it for as long as I live.

'You... You're a...'

I could do nothing but stare numbly as she began to creep backward away from me.

'You're with her. She sent you. She made you into this!'

'No, Serenwen. Wait. Please, hear me out. You know I'd never hurt you...'

'Get away from me!'

My heart broke as I watched her scramble to her feet and run away into the night.


	12. Chapter 12: Devour

The bellowing roars echoed from the slopes of the valley as Naslaarum and Voslaarum snapped their bloodied beaks at each other, bickering among themselves as they vigorously tore into the carcass of the dragon that lay between them and consumed its flesh.

The dragon had soared over The Vale two hours earlier. It had seemed to Gelebor that it had not been aware of its location when it had appeared in the sky; it had not taken long before the Avatars had seen it and risen up into the air in fevered bloodlust to bring it down.

'It's horrific.' Sahren frowned as he stared down at the gruesome scene from the great balcony; Virdanyis stood quietly at his side and beheld the spectacle in sober silence. 'How is this possible? Has it happened before?'

'It has been documented. I have only seen it once before, long ago before your mother was born, when I was only young.' Gelebor frowned down at the twin dragons as they tugged and twisted the ragged hunks of meat from the carcass, low rumbles resonating from them as bone and sinew crunched and popped and their scales became slick with blood.  
The crimson stain on the ice beneath them became broader and messier as they ate. 'They would do it with every dragon if given the opportunity. Usually the Herald would absorb the creature's soul before the Avatars had a chance to eat the body.'

Crowds had gathered on the cliff tops to behold the gory scene; the dragon priests hovered a safe distance away from their charges, unsure of what to do. Nobody had seen anything like it.

'Gods,' Sahren murmured quietly as he looked on, unable to avert his gaze. 'They're monsters.'

'It is their nature. They have always been this way.' Gelebor spoke quietly and calmly, although he too was disturbed by the sight. 'They were gifts from Auriel, my king. They were here before any of us, and they will outlast us just the same. It is not for us to recoil in distaste.'

'Where is Serenwen?' Virdanyis asked firmly. 'She should have been back days ago.'

'I don't know.' Sahren's voice betrayed his annoyance at the fact. 'She's shirking her responsibilities. That, down there... It shouldn't be happening.'

'Send a hawk.'

Virdanyis nodded politely toward Gelebor as he turned to make the arrangements; the older elf observed the young king quietly for a moment before Sahren began to speak, his silvery white hair moving in the frigid breeze.

'Should we be concerned, Gelebor?'

There was no fear in his voice; only the faintest hint of uncertainty. An air of caution and hesitation. He turned to look at Gelebor, his pale blue eyes narrowing as he focused.

'I do not believe so, your highness. It is expected that dragons will attack The Vale from time to time, as they do with many other places. The danger of allowing the Avatars to act without the guidance of the Herald is that innocent people will become injured or killed. That hasn't happened in this instance, although that was due to luck.'

'Instruct Archmage Nieven to locate her at once. She needs to come back here.'

'Of course, your highness.' Gelebor bowed politely before he turned to leave; Sahren released a frustrated sigh before casting his eyes up toward the heavens.

It was beginning to snow again; little flakes began to fall down and pepper the stone balcony, glittering slightly in the harsh sunlight.

It was as Sahren turned to leave, the thoughts of the Avatars still on his mind, that the statues lining the great hall caught his eye again as they always did: the stone effigies of The Heralds in all of their configurations and incarnations throughout the ages, presented in their pairs with names inscribed at their feet in Falmer rune. Their eyes and hands glowed dimly with golden light for the spirit of reverence, and blue light for the spirit of war; their armour and spears always the same, the two sets being passed down through the generations to each Herald consecutively as they stepped into their role. He could feel the warm glow of the blessings that had been bestowed upon the statues as he looked at them.

They were so different. Some of the pairs were twins; some of them were unrelated. Some of them were even lovers; a beautiful statue from long ago, its extremities beginning to become cracked with age, showed a tall, heavily built Falmer man, his eyes glowing with the blue light of The War Herald as he held in his arms his counterpart: a beautiful woman with flowing hair and big, almond shaped eyes.

Two brothers stood proudly together, their faces scarred and hardened as they brandished their spears; two women were next to them, their fingers entwined together as they bowed their heads and raised their palms to the heavens, tears streaming down their faces.

There was so much history here; so many forgotten stories of triumph and pain, of sacrifice and pride.

And it was as he reached the newest statues at the end of the row - those of Nysteris and Faire - that the feeling of ancient reverence and history, the sense of magnitude and hushed respect became stronger.

The twins stood tall and straight, their shoulders touching and their eyes half-lidded as they held their spears; the expressions on their faces were serene and pacific, the gentle smiles almost suggesting the knowledge of secrets never to be revealed. Their hair flowed down their backs and shoulders and the long horns of their crowns arched up from their heads. Without the glowing light to specify which was which, it would have been impossible to distinguish them from one another.

Sahren felt a strange sadness and emptiness as he reached forward to touch the hand of the statue representing his mother; the ripple of magicka rippled up his arm as he looked at her.

She seemed so beautiful; so heroic. A thing of benevolence and grace; he could see traces of himself and his sister in her face as he gazed up at her, the mysterious smile upon her lips frozen in stone.

He longed to have had the chance to meet her. But he knew that there was no hope of it now. A small, wan smile passed across his face as he let his hand drop, and the warmth of the magicka disappeared.

Teldryn watched on silently from his position in the shadows; a smile of his own appeared as he watched the touching scene in front of him, and his mind travelled back to the times he has spent with Nysteris in their early days together.

There was still hope. Nothing is forever.


	13. Chapter 13: Dead

'What's wrong?'

Farkas frowned and looked on in wary confusion as Serenwen strode into Jorrvaskr, her hair wet and full of debris and her eyes sore from crying; it soon became apparent to Farkas that she was intoxicated as she sat down heavily next to him and grabbed a flagon of mead, downing it in one smooth motion. He raised an eyebrow as he watched her.

'Are you alright?'

She didn't answer; she simply stared morosely into the fire, her eyes glazed over and the smell of earthy rain emanating from her hair and from the underlay of her armour.

'Uh... Um.'

Farkas shifted uncomfortably in his seat next to her and cleared his throat. An awkward silence fell over the two of them as they sat in the empty hall together.

He didn't know what he was supposed to do next. The role of comforter was one he was not good at and was rarely, if ever, required to adopt. Especially for the sake of a woman. While he had never successfully done it before, he knew that he was more likely to get it wrong than right. He gave a small, inaudible sigh as he shifted his feet uncomfortably and began to speak quietly in his low, growling voice.

'Do you want some more -'

'My parents are dead.'

Her voice was tired and flat as she continued to stare into the flames; Farkas' pale blue eyes widened in shock as he stared at her in silence.

He remembered when Kodlak had died, and the excruciating angst he and Vilkas had felt for so long after it; the tears that had rolled down their cheeks as they stood together before his funeral pyre at the Skyforge. They stood in front of the others so that nobody could see their tears; They had suffered together as they had watched the flames consume his body and felt the fierce heat of the forge on their faces.

It was an agony he wouldn't wish upon anyone; his heart filled with sympathy as he hesitantly reached out to put a big, heavy hand on her back as a gesture of solidarity and comfort.

Her head snapped toward him and her purple eyes became wide as she stared at him in insolent surprise, the rings in her ears jingling with the gesture; he quickly recoiled slightly and hesitated to touch her as he was taken aback by her expression.

'Sorry. I was...'

She looked utterly alien to him. So strange in appearance that it almost made him uncomfortable. The huge mauve eyes, the pale grey skin, the big ears and the tattoos. Farkas hadn't had a lot of interaction with elves at the best of times and didn't know much about them, but this one was stranger than most. Not ugly; but so unfamiliar and unusual. Nords were so much easier to understand.

She frowned a little and held his gaze for a few moments longer before staring back into the fire. He breathed a small sigh of relief before trying to focus on what to do next; he slowly reached out to grip the handle of a flagon of mead as he began to speak quietly.

'I'm no good at this.' He gave a slightly pained and awkward half-smile as he passed the mug to her. 'I know how much it hurts to lose someone...'

'Not like this.' She whispered as she raised the flagon to her lips.  
Farkas could only assume that Teldryn Sero had died by violence. He had seen him in Whiterun only a week earlier, and he had seemed strong and fit. Fighting men like him always met a grisly end; it was simply the way of things.

'I'm sure it was an honourable death.'

'There's nothing honourable about it.' She snarled to herself as she drained the flagon of mead.

Clearly Farkas wasn't going to be able to say anything right. He twirled his thumbs around one another and stared at the ground awkwardly.

'What do you want me-'

He gasped in shock as she pounced on him and roughly pressed her lips against his; the empty mead flagon fell loudly to the ground and rolled into the fire as his arms flailed around him to maintain his balance.  
His mind was blank with surprise. Unexpected didn't even begin to describe it.

'Hey!'

A sharp and angry voice rang out as Serenwen instantly recoiled and Farkas stumbled backward, almost falling off the bench.

Vilkas glared angrily at the two of them as he stood there across the fire pit with his arms folded, an expression of surprised offence upon his face; Farkas cleared his throat and stood up as Serenwen glared at Vilkas resentfully, a scowl upon her face.

'What's going on here?!'

'Her parents are dead.'

Vilkas raised his eyebrows in surprise; he had not expected it. His gaze flickered warily from one of them to the other; he spoke in a low tone when his words came.

'Teldryn Sero is dead?'

'Yes.' Serenwen glared at him with pain and anger burning in her eyes as he stood there, perfectly still and glaring back at her. A silence fell across the room.

'I'm sorry to hear it. You have my sympathies, Serenwen. He was a great man.'

She scowled and felt the burning pain of angst in her chest as a tear rolled down her cheek. Farkas frowned a little and lowered his head.

'Farkas. We've found another one.' Vilkas turned his attention to his brother. 'It might not be there for long, though. Maybe the elf can go with you. Show us what she's worth.'

Farkas was slightly shamed by his brother's dismissal of Serenwen's obvious suffering; he looked his brother in the eye as he spoke to him. 'Alright. You can explain it to me tomorrow. I'm tired.'

'Fair enough.' Vilkas' cold gaze rested upon Serenwen again. 'You can stay here if you have nowhere else to go, Maple seed. But you won't be sharing your quarters with Farkas.'

She scoffed as she glared up at the man. The things Teldryn had told her were still milling in her head; these men were cursed. With what, she didn't know. But she knew that they wouldn't be aware of her knowledge of it. There was plenty of time to find out.

* * *

The bed was warm, although not comfortable; resting as it did among so many others in the room just like it, it was difficult to get to sleep. People snored and stirred. Not one of them was awake; not even Athis.

It was with great caution that she slipped out of the bed and carefully crept to the door, placing one foot in front of the other with such caution that it seemed excessively arduous. She knew how much trouble she'd be in if she was caught sneaking around; but she could already hear the restless gasps and growls faintly echoing from down the stone paved hall.

The noises became louder as she crept toward their chambers; heavy breathing, tossing of sheets, grunts of frustration. She grinned in spite of the situation; the suspense was thrilling.

She carefully crouched and curled her fingers around the door frame to look into the room. The light was dim, but she could see him: Farkas, lying on the bed, his bare chest heaving and his teeth clenched as he gripped the furs Iining the bed in his fists. His eyes were closed, but she could see them frantically moving beneath the darkened lids; all of him was covered with a thin sheen of sweat, the animal skin barely covering his nakedness and preventing her from seeing anything else.

It was a more alarming scene than she had imagined it would be. He was in torment. A mild sense of fear that rose within her was overpowered by curiosity as she gingerly put a foot forward to enter his room.

The cold hands which suddenly gripped her from behind caused her to cry out.

Strong, swift hands. One of them gently but firmly clamped down over her mouth as the other one pulled her quickly away from the door; a quiet, sharp hiss issued from behind her as a dark red, almost black mist slowly began to creep up into the space around her.

'Sssh.'

The fear which flooded her caused her to struggle, but her captor was too strong; her wrists were firmly held in an iron grip as her arms were held behind her.

'Stop it. Be quiet. Now.'

It was Teldryn. That voice she knew so well.  
She looked around, his hand still over her mouth as he held her still in the corner of Farkas' room; his eyes were fixed firmly on the doorway, glowing a vivid orange and yellow like fire as they stared. His face was stern and serious, his brow furrowed; she saw the tips of his long canine teeth as his lips parted slightly and he concentrated, holding her still as the thick black mist enveloped them both and her vision became obscured by it. He calmly hissed at her again to be quiet; she heeded his warning and became quietly still as a strange misty shadow began to enter the room.

And it was then that Serenwen saw her for the first time as she silently glided into the room; Nysteris. Her mother.

She was tall and thin; her form seemed almost intangible, little wisps of black mist breaking away from her as she moved and her limbs seeming distorted. She was cloaked in the black mist like a robe, her stark, Snow White face almost glowing in the dark as her solid, blood-red eyes settled upon Farkas, and a malevolent smile appeared on her pale lips.

Serenwen felt Teldryn grip her tighter as Nysteris came to wait at the foot of Farkas' bed, her hand raising up and her long white fingers unfurling to unleash a glow of unfamiliar magic over his restlessly sleeping body.

The panic rising in Serenwen's heart was becoming difficult to contain. She could hear her heartbeat thundering in her head. Her hands began the tremble; it was only the strangely sedating ripple of magic that flowed into her through Teldryn's hands that suddenly made her calm.

'_Be still. You will be safe. I will not let her find you_.'

The relaxation slowly took hold as Teldryn eased his grip on her; his eyes remained fixed upon the frightening figure standing over Farkas.

Suddenly, Nysteris turned and faced into the darkness, her eyes huge and blank in their redness, her ears straining to listen for any sounds.

Serenwen heard her father's breath hitch as he stood as still as a statue, his eyes still fixed upon Nysteris.

Time seemed to stand still as she searched the darkness with her eyes; the difference between life and death for Serenwen rested in the balance as Teldryn hid her not three meters away from where Nysteris stood.

Serenwen closed her eyes as her mother took a step forward; she could feel the hot ripples of evil radiating out from her as she approached.

A sudden gasp from Farkas as he slept suddenly caught the vampire's attention. Nysteris turned quickly as Farkas suddenly began to sit up.

And suddenly, Teldryn dissolved into a cloud of black mist and rapidly left the room as Nysteris did the same; and Serenwen found herself falling to her knees clumsily on the floor, staring directly up at a distressed and very naked Farkas.

'You!' He growled in shock. 'What are you doing in here!'

'I... Uh...' She stammered as she stared at him in shock, unable to find words. 'I... Wanted to...'

'You're barking up the wrong tree, Serenwen. You're only a girl. You shouldn't be in here. Get out.'

She scrambled to her feet as she blushed a vivid pink and made a rapid exit.

Her father; he had saved her.

Maybe; just maybe she was beginning to understand.


	14. Chapter 14: Hope

'You've never tried your own kind?'

Nysteris smiled almost undetectably as she looked at me, her red eyes half-lidded and her black hair blowing softly around her in the breeze. She appeared deceptively calm and content as she stood there, leaning against the tree next to her former home in Falkreath; where she had once lived with Marcurio as her steward. She had been a vampire then, and he had been her thrall. Now I had taken his place, all these years later; and as I stared at the abandoned and run-down shade of Lakeview Manor, covered in creeping vines and awash with pale silver moonlight, I couldn't help but feel the painful loneliness.

'No. And I never will. I could never harm one of my own. Snow Elf blood could be sweeter than honey for all I know; it shall not cross my lips.'

I frowned slightly in confusion as I watched her eyes pass over me, the little smile still upon her face. It seemed more malicious to me now as she spoke and her teeth caught the reflection of the moonlight.

'You could tell me.'

I scoffed slightly and smiled to myself as I sat down on a mossy rock near the run-down stables and looked at her, raising an eyebrow. 'No I couldn't. I've not tasted any other. Sujamma wouldn't be sweet to one who'd never had anything else.'

'You should be broadening your tastes, then.' She observed me quietly for a moment, a small furrow in her brow as she spoke, a mild expression of sternness and concern passing across her face. 'You won't awaken as the fearsome creature you truly are until you've tasted mortal blood. You limit yourself. Stop being weak and embrace your gift.'

I hated it when she chided me. I was just as stubborn as she was, and there was no way I was going to shed the last vestige of my honour, whatever it may be, by taking mortal blood into myself. Not yet.

'All in good time, sera.' I smiled at her through my mild annoyance. 'Let me pace myself.'

'You're a terrible fledgling. I should have chosen someone stronger.'

'Ah, but you didn't.' I grinned broadly at her, my mouth widening into a savage grin. 'Was it because you couldn't find a stronger one, or because you can't bear to be without me? A bit of both perhaps, sera?'

She turned her head away as she spoke, giving a small exasperated sigh. 'Were you always like this?'

'Always, my dear. That will never change. You should stop being weak and embrace your gift.'

'You? A gift?'

'Oh yes. Don't try to deny it. I can see it in your dead, lifeless eyes. I know you want me.'

A smile cracked her face as I winked at her; after a few moments she came gliding across the mossy earth and softly relaxed into my arms, her cold fingers gently closing around my bicep. I murmured into her ear as I kissed her hair and smoothed it with my open hand. 'See? I don't even have to ask.' She smiled again as she softly dug her nails into my bicep, her eyes almost closing as she sighed softly and melted into my embrace.

It reminded me of how she used to be; young and vivid and a mystery to all but myself. A creature of fearsome power and fathomless depth to all who beheld her; but to me, my heart and soul. The one who knew me better than anyone else ever could, and the one whose affections I would give up my life for. Indeed, I had done exactly that.  
But the creature I held in my arms now was not her. It was the reanimated corpse of the woman I loved; a hollow shell of undead flesh driven by a heart of darkness. The familiarity of her face and her form constantly caused my heart to flutter; but what kept me here was the promise that I would somehow be able to reclaim her, in whatever form that may be. That she would be mine again.

She was placated now. It was as good a time as any to gently press her. I murmured quietly to her as I kissed her hair and idly twirled its cool, glossy blackness around my fingers.

'You never told me what Companion blood tastes like. Sweeter than the average Nord?'

She scoffed quietly. 'The underlings are no different.'

'I wasn't talking about the underlings.' I smiled so that she could hear it in my voice. I was trying to get her to tell me what I wanted to hear; if it took a little embellishment and charm, then so be it. 'I'm referring to those hairy, sweaty brutes holed up in that mead hall. The ones you love to visit. Maybe with the promise of letting me see you with all that bloody mess on your face, you could even persuade me to join you. Toughen up and embrace it. Deflower me.'

She purred and twisted in my lap to gaze up at me, a lecherous grin on her face and her eyes tainted with a hint of lust. 'Really? Mmm. This would be the first time you've had something to deflower for many a long year.'

'I can't deny it.' I smiled broadly at her. 'Don't tease me, sera. Come on. Let's do it. I'm asking politely like a good little fledgling.'

'You're a vampire lord. You don't need me to hold your hand to go and bother some worthless thugs.'

'I want you there. Don't tell me you're scared? I'm shocked.'

She grinned at me again; that familiar touch of evil tainted her dark beauty. 'I'm pleased by your eagerness. But it cannot be done.'

My heart stopped beating for a moment. I felt a rush of adrenaline and anticipation ripple through me at the words she spoke.  
It was working. If I could get her to elaborate...

'I knew it. You are scared. I'm disappointed in you, sera.' I leaned in to gently bite the tip of her ear as I smiled; I silently begged to Azura that she wouldn't hear the pounding of my heart as I waited for her response.

'Don't be stupid. It would be suicide to drink werewolf blood.'

I almost exhaled with the intensity of the emotion that burst in my chest.

I had it. What I had wanted her to tell me. It was almost over. I tried my hardest to control my breathing as I calmed myself and quietly continued.

'What? How do you mean?' I asked her softly. 'I thought you'd been feasting on them for years.'

The sound of my own heart thundered in my head as my chest began to heave.

'Of course not. They are children of Hircine. Their blood would take away my master's blessing and make me a vulgar beast of the wilds like them. And it would do the same to you.' She looked up at me again, her big, blood-red eyes fixed upon my face. 'Their lot in this life is to suffer. As they caused my people to suffer, and weep for their slain daughters and sons; as the Falmer children suffered upon learning of the deaths of their fathers and the elders cried in vain when the news of the Snow Prince's death reached them. They will suffer as my kind suffered at the hands of the Dwemer. And you nor I will do anything to prevent it.'

My hands began to tremble.

I had the answer; the cure.

If Nysteris drank from one of the circle, and the Glenmoril witches were slain...

'What's wrong with you?'

I saw her eye me warily as I breathed heavily and a smile spread across my face. I met her stare with a wide one of my own and tried to calm myself.

'I'm hungry.' I slid my hand down from her hair and roughly pulled her up toward me by the waist, licking her neck as I murmured, trying to disguise my frantic excitement and joy as hunger and lust. 'Don't deny me.'

She laughed softly as she wound her arms around my shoulders. 'For what?'

'What do you want, sera? You know I'll give it to you.'

'Death did nothing to dim your desire, did it? Dunmer men...'

'We've had this conversation before. In Whiterun. When we never left the house and I wore you out.' I grazed her neck with my teeth and roughly grabbed her backside. 'Three times as many couplings for a third as many children. We have to be like this. It's in our blood. You've never complained about it.' I grinned wildly, still elated from the news she had given me; I wasn't even thinking about what I was saying. The plan was already beginning to form in my head.

I felt her grip my hair as she leaned up to press her lips against my neck; I wasn't listening to the words she spoke.

Finally, after all of these years; hope.


	15. Chapter 15: Friendship

The room was dark and cold.

A ball of dim blue Mage light glowed in the silver and ivory sconce on the elegantly carved stone table next to Virdanyis' bed; his spear and armour reflected it softly as they rested on the wooden brace against the wall, and the pale grey curtains billowed softly in the icy breeze that blew in gently from the window.

Virdanyis himself was lying naked beneath the satiny crimson sheets of his ornate bed, his white hair cascading over the side of it as he slept peacefully with his arm resting protectively over the body of the Snow Elf woman who lay at his side. She was as white as he was; the two of them looked like statues, carefully crafted of alabaster and white silk thread.

I watched them for a moment; they seemed so ornate. Almost unreal; too pale and lovely to be living creatures. Their chests softly rose and fell with each breath they took. I could hear their hearts beating quietly and slowly as they slept; the faint scent of their blood reached me as I beheld them from the cold shadows of the room.

I almost felt guilty as the inevitable temptation to drink from them as they slept passed through my mind and quickly faded away, suppressed by my sensibilities.

Virdanyis was the only one in The Vale who knew of my affliction. Indeed, other than Serenwen he was the only mortal who was aware of what I had become. The trust he had placed in me despite his knowing what I was was a humbling gift; and whether he knew of my inevitable temptations when presented with a potential meal or not, I would not make him face them.

I almost felt bad about disturbing him as he slept in the embrace of his lovely companion. But what I needed to do was more important than allowing him to rest peacefully.

I silently sent out a ripple of energy to him as I stood in the darkness, focusing my gaze upon him as the waves reached his mind.

I watched as he began to stir in the bed, his arm enclosing his lover more tightly as she snuggled into his embrace; as the little ripples of heat continued to resonate within him, he slowly opened his eyes and began to blink.

'Wake up.' I whispered as softly as I could as the faint magic continued to call to him; I silently stepped forward to allow him to see me as he carefully removed his arm from the sleeping woman, moving as slowly and deliberately as if he were trying to avoid triggering a trap.

He squinted as he rubbed his face and stared into the darkness; his pale blue eyes widened in surprise as he saw me standing in the shadows.

'Teldryn?', he whispered. 'What are you doing in here?'

'Shhh.' I hushed him quietly as I gestured toward the door with a slow nod of my head.

He carefully pulled back the glossy sheets of the bed and stood up on the cold stone floor, over six and a half feet tall and gloriously naked; he shot me a confused and mildly irritated glance as he reached for his robes and went to tie his white mane of hair back with a length of silvery cord.

'General...?' The woman's soft and weary voice seemed so loud in the quietness of the room as she turned in the bed to reach out to him, the sheets sliding away to reveal her breasts.

I smirked at him broadly. He'd be hearing about this later. I wondered if he made all of his lovers address him as General during their intimate encounters.

'Sleep now, my dear.' He smiled as he leaned down to kiss her softly and tied the sash around his waist. 'I will return soon enough.'

She stroked his arm with her hand before rolling onto her side and covering herself with the sheets, snuggling into the plush crimson cushions. He shot me another irritated glare before walking toward the door and quietly opening it to enter the reception room.

'Bad timing, General?' I smiled widely at him as I settled into the chair opposite his, resting my hands on the carved stone arm rests and resting my ankle on my knee. I almost laughed at his annoyed expression.

'What do you think?'

'Just as well I didn't come calling earlier. I might have found you mid-thrust in other business.'

He glared at me angrily for a moment before a small, sarcastic smile appeared on his face. 'Do I detect a hint of jealousy, friend?'

'Yes. How astute of you.' I smiled as I leaned forward to light the pipette he placed between his lips with a little flame at the tip of my finger.

He leaned back in his chair and exhaled a cloud of fragranced smoke into the air. 'What's going on? You aren't usually this invasive.'

I paused for a moment as the emotions began to roil in my heart again. Even uttering the words now caused a fountain of excitement and trepidation to erupt within me; as though I were too afraid to say it aloud, lest it dissolve away.

'I know how to save Nysteris.'

His eyes opened wide as he stared at me in shock. Seconds passed as he registered the information I had given him.

'Teldryn...' He hesitated for a moment, a look of wariness clouding his face. 'Are you certain? This can't be safe...'

'Of course it won't be safe.' I pierced him with my glowing stare.

'How did you learn of this? Does she know?'

'She is the one who told me. And no, she doesn't know yet.'

'Alright. Explain it to me.'

I took a deep breath as I began to think of how I would make the ask. It would be a difficult sell.

'Serenwen has gone to join up with the Companions in Whiterun.'

'What!'

'I know, I know. I tried to stop her. I followed her there and tried to dissuade her.'

He paused as he glanced at me. 'You spoke with her?'

I sighed loudly and slumped in my chair slightly. I didn't want to admit that things had gone wrong; but it was inevitable. 'Yes. I told her why she shouldn't join. I explained everything to her in detail. All about her mother and Molag Bal; about the Battle of the Moesring and how her grandfather died. I showed her the letter that Nysteris left for me on the night she left. She knows everything.'

Virdanyis was mildly stunned. He merely stared at me with his mouth slightly ajar and his brow furrowed, the pipette in his fingers emitting a thin plume of graceful smoke. I folded my arms across my chest as I stared back at him, and he blinked.

'That was not enough to dissuade her?'

'No.'

'Good gods.' He closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration. 'Does she know about your...'

'Yes. It was revealed before I had intended it to be. But it was perhaps just as well; I had to save her from Nysteris in the Jorrvaskr sleeping quarters two nights ago. I couldn't have done it without this curse of mine. And Serenwen would not have cooperated if she hadn't known about it beforehand.'

'What is she still doing in there? What is wrong with her?'

'She's stubborn. I was the same. Young girl, eager to prove herself and taste adventure.' I sighed again, casting my eyes down. 'She thought that my... Condition meant that I was an ally of her mother. She didn't trust me enough to let me guide her down her destined path; I only got as far as teaching her a word of power.'

'We can teach her everything else after she has learned her first word. The Arch-Mage is proficient enough in his studies of Nysteris and the dragon priests attending the Avatars are fluent in the dragon tongue.' Virdanyis pierced me with his focused stare. 'You need to get her that dragon soul. She can't unlock her abilities or defend herself against Nysteris without it.'

'I know that, serjo.' I didn't like being told what to do, and the irritation was apparent in my voice. I wasn't upset with him. I was frustrated. The enormity of the task ahead of me was vast and foreboding. My voice became quiet as I continued. 'I have a plan to address it.'

'Do tell.' He took another long draw on his pipe and focused on me intensely.

I took a deep breath as I continued.

'Serenwen is leaving soon with one of the companions to complete her initiation into the Companions; she will be going to collect some fragments of the accursed Wuuthrad. If I am not mistaken, they may be some of the last pieces.'

'Mmm.' He nodded as he listened intently.

'I may have... Moved the fragments to a different place to the one they were originally in and sent a message to the companions informing them of where the fragments can be found.'

'Yes...' He eyed me warily.

'That location may have a dragon in it.'

His eyes became wide again. 'Oh, Teldryn...'

'Hear me out.' I interjected. 'I fully intend to be there when she arrives to aid her in destroying it.'

He stared at me in shock. 'Do you honestly think this will work?'

'I know it will. I can't heal Nysteris until Serenwen has the soul, and Serenwen must be able to defend herself before I commence.'

'And what of Nysteris?' He asked, quickly glancing toward his bedroom door to make sure that the woman remained asleep.

I paused for a moment before I began; his gaze burned into me intently.

'She has to drink the blood of a member of the Companion's inner circle. One who bears the beast blood. The mark of Hircine will replace the curse of Molag Bal. As you can see, I can't do this until Serenwen is ready. After Nysteris is cured, I will need both of them to help me resist the backlash of her old master.'

'But Teldryn... She won't be cured. She'll be a werewolf.'

'For a time, perhaps.' I lowered my voice to a loud whisper. 'But that condition can be cured. And it will be in her interests to do so after she is afflicted. And in curing her, we cure the companions as well. Everybody wins.'

'How are you going to do this?' He sounded curious and exasperated as he leaned forward in his stone chair, hanging on my words.

'Destroy the Glenmoril Witch's coven. Nysteris has been the only thing preventing this from happening until now. Once she is a werewolf, I strongly suspect that she will have the motivation required to kill them.'

'You will never get the companions to agree to this. To willingly allow Nysteris to drink from them. And she will never agree to it either.' He eyed me with an air of caution. 'And what about you? Do you think you're powerful enough to handle all of this?'

I was silent for a long time.

Nysteris' words resonated in my mind; that I would need to drink mortal blood before I could become truly powerful.

A cold shiver of fear and aversion ran up my spine as I thought of it.

'I will be. I have things that I must do first.'

His voice was quiet and pleading when he eventually spoke; it took me by surprise.

'I know that you suffer, Teldryn. Your heart feels with an intensity I have seen in no other. You have been through much.'

I raised my head to stare at him in surprise; his expression was one of pleading. It was genuine emotion that was etched upon him; I glanced at the long pearlescent scar running down his face over his eye. The one he had obtained while fighting alongside Nysteris and I in Winterhold.

'I... I don't want you to die. Or Serenwen. This is a terrible risk you are taking.'

'I know. But I must do it. For Serenwen as well as Nysteris. If you know of the fragility of my heart, serjo... You will also know that I have no choice.'

'I see that now.'

He gazed at me with a troubled expression, a faint smile upon his lips in spite of his trepidation; I smiled softly back at him.

No words were needed. We understood each other.

He sighed. 'You want my help, don't you?'

I grinned. 'How kind of you to offer.'


	16. Chapter 16: Power

'Autumnwatch tower.'

Virdanyis nodded slightly as he sat cross-legged some distance away from the campfire, chewing snowberries and drinking from a glass bottle of kynsin. Even though he was not near the fire, I could see a fine sheen of sweat on his stark white skin as its light reflected from his paleness and seemed to make him glow in the dark. He didn't complain about it. I often forgot how much of an aversion his kind had to fire and heat; they were only truly at home when they were surrounded by ice and snow.

'And the dragon?'

'Not a difficult one. It tends to keep to itself; not many people know that it lives there.'

'It wouldn't happen to be an ice dragon, would it?' Virdanyis have a droll and sarcastic smile as he raised the bottle to his lips and gave me a dry glance.  
I knew why he was asking. The prospect of being doused in fire was a sobering one for a Snow Elf. And while my vampirism had reduced my own resistance to flame, we both knew that Virdanyis would need to be far more cautious when tangling with a creature which could burn him to a cinder without even touching him.

'Sadly not.' I smiled at him regretfully. 'But I know you've got some useful spells up your sleeve to deal with that.'

'Hmm. Let's hope it will be enough.'

For a moment I almost felt guilty about what I was asking him to do. It really wasn't his problem. As far as he was concerned, he was able to fulfil his duties perfectly well to Sahren and Gelebor without ever having to think about Nysteris again. And although he bore great affection for Serenwen, he was under no obligation to assist her.

'You can still do that thing with the ice, yes?'

'Which thing do you refer to?'

'The frost cloak.'

'Of course I can. It's second nature.' He frowned at me slightly as he put down the bottle. 'And all the rest of it. You act as if you've never met a snow elf before.'

He was right. I already knew that he was a proficient magic user, like his kinsmen. Their aptitude was equal to that of the Altmer, albeit in different disciplines; although I hadn't had the opportunity to see the snow elves in battle as often as I'd like, I knew that they were equally adept with a bow or spear as they were with spells.

'Of course. Forgive me.' I grinned at him again before staring back into the dancing flames.

'And what about you? Have you addressed your... Problem yet?'

I felt an uncomfortable flare of surprise burn in my chest at his words. I knew what he was referring to.

'And what problem is that?', I asked innocently.

'Your strength. You implied that there was room for improvement to be made before we arrive at Autumnwatch.'

I sighed loudly at his words. I had been hoping that he would forget.

'It won't be a problem, Virdanyis. When we face the dragon we'll have a vampire, a werewolf, a Dragonborn and a military general as well as a flame and a frost atronach. It will be more than adequate.'

He was quiet for a moment. It was the first time either of us had used the word 'vampire' in reference to what I had become; it cast a grim light upon the reality of the situation.

'You know we can't afford to take any risks.'

He was staring at me with a serious expression, his ice-blue eyes wide and reflecting the light of the fire. 'What do you need?'

I was beginning to feel uncomfortable. That maddening practicality of his was showing again.

'Don't play the fool, General. I think you know.' I pierced him with my gaze, hoping to make him reconsider his line of questioning; he merely returned my stare with an expression of neutrality.

'It's blood, then?'

I physically squirmed as I averted my gaze and answered him curtly. 'Yes. And there's nothing we can do about that now.' I stood up to fetch the silver pipe from the bag, leaning down to rummage through its contents.  
I was hoping that he wouldn't do what I was suspecting he would. Drinking from another was an intimate experience; and in my hungered state I would not be able to refuse him. I became uneasy and nervous as I tried to make myself look busy.

'You can drink from another without killing them, can't you? Or turning them into one like yourself?'

'Virdanyis... Please.' I turned to give him a pleading stare. 'Don't do this to me. It will be weird.'

He frowned slightly. 'I don't want to reduce my chances of walking away from battling a dragon because you don't want things to get weird, Teldryn. Nor would Serenwen.'

I was very uncomfortable now. I could feel my heart beating faster and my mouth becoming dry; a dull, hollow ache began to radiate out from my stomach.  
What was he doing?

'Don't say it. Don't. Please. I beg you.'

'Don't be stupid. Do the responsible thing and prepare yourself as you should. This whole adventure was your plan from the beginning, and you won't even ready yourself properly.' A look of determination was fixed firmly upon his face as he began to stand up and walk toward me, his gilded Mage robes billowing in the night air behind him as he approached.

I stood my ground and glared at him angrily. A unpleasantly excited feeling began to stir within me.

'Are you insane? What is the matter with you? Who but a fool would willingly offer themselves to a vampire?'  
The hypocrisy of my words struck me as soon as they had left my lips, but I was too confused to dwell upon it.  
'I'm giving you an opportunity to spare your conscience, Teldryn.'

He was standing in front of me now; long strands of silvery white hair blew around him softly as he continued to speak in a slow and calm voice, his eyes focused firmly upon my own.  
'Would you feel better if you were forced to drain the blood of an unwilling victim?'

I became acutely aware of the fact that my chest was bare as he stood uncomfortably close to me; I let out a low, almost undetectable hiss as I took a step backward and eyed him warily.

'Why are you doing this?', I whispered. 'This is an intimate act you ask of me.'

'I don't think of it that way.' He was still infuriatingly calm. 'I see it as a way to better our odds for success by increasing your strength. And also doing a favour for an old friend. I can heal myself.'

'It will not be pleasant for you.' I swallowed as I found my eyes drawn to the pale skin on his neck, the blue veins showing beneath its white translucency.

'I did not expect it to be.'

A long and awkward silence followed; his gaze never averted from my own. Not a glimmer of fear resided within him.

My voice was a dry whisper when it emerged.

'You really want me to do this?'

'It is necessary.'

'You are a fool.' I took a step toward him, my breathing becoming heavy as I raised my hand to move his hair away from his neck. A powerful flare of lust lit in my chest as I leaned in closer to him, my lips almost touching his flesh. His fragrance washed over me like cool water; incense and kynsin. I clenched my teeth as I spoke, my hot breath blowing against his cold skin. 'I could kill you.'

'I don't think you will.' His voice was a deep, low purr; it resonated in my ears as he took a step closer to me and brought his lips next to my jaw. 'I'm right here, Teldryn. Let's not drag this out.'

My hands were shaking; my breath hissed through clenched teeth. My heart pounded in my chest as I fought the urge to bite him.

This was all too strange. Was he trying to torment me? Seduce me? I had not expected such actions from him. I knew that he sometimes partook of the affections of other male Mer in The Vale; did he know how his behaviour was affecting me?

'What are you waiting for?'

The words he growled in my ear almost caused me to lose my resolve; I roughly grabbed the back of his neck with my left hand and lowered my lips to within a hair's width of his skin.  
But when his hand touched my back and he firmly pulled me forward, I couldn't resist any longer.

He gasped as I roughly yanked his neck toward me and bit down hard into his smooth white flesh, my teeth puncturing his skin with a small pop. I felt him stiffen in pain at the sensation as I gripped a handful of his hair and sank deeper into his neck. And when the blood came, it was like nectar from the heavens.

Light exploded behind my eyes as it flowed over my tongue. It was hot and alive, sweet and metallic and pure and rich; all of the sensations of the world around me melted together to amass in a ball of bliss and ecstasy as the ripples quickly bolted through my veins, down my arms and legs and exploding in my toes and fingertips. The rush of power and weakness it brought was euphoric and debilitating.

Time had disappeared. I was suspended in a state of perfect fulfilment, far beyond the pleasures of the mortal world. I had never thought for a moment that the curse of undeath could bestow such a state of utter joy. I could feel my fingers digging into the flesh of Virdanyis' back through his robes as he stiffened and shuddered in my embrace; and then suddenly, as the light faded and a heavy darkness began to roll over me, I remembered that I needed to stop.

I roughly pulled my teeth from his neck and pushed him away in a state of alarm, fearful that I had taken too much from him; I watched on, panting for breath as he staggered backward, his hand covering the fresh and bloody wound as he began to heal himself, the ribbons of pale golden light winding around his body and bathing him in a beautiful glow.

I quickly reached out to support him, gripping his forearm to prevent him from falling over; he winced in pain as he closed his eyes and intensified the restoration spell, and the feelings of guilt began to wash over me even as the intoxicating ripples of newfound power flowed through me like a rush of adrenaline.

'Virdanyis...' I began, stammering in shame and haplessness as he raised his palm to reassure me and gingerly sat down in the ground at my feet.

'I'm alright.' His voice was tired and languid, drawn between breaths of exhaustion. He raised his eyes to look at me from beneath a curtain of long and messy silver hair. 'How do you feel?'

I was taken aback by his response.

'How do I feel?' I said softly. 'I feel like I just raped you.' I paused, overcome with awkwardness and shame.

He gave a dry smile as the spell began to return his strength. 'Let's not go down that road.' He sighed and flopped down on the ground onto his back, staring up at the night sky as his chest heaved quietly. 'Tell me that it worked.'

It was strange for me to see him with such a lack of decorum. I liked it; despite my own feelings of guilt, he seemed more familiar to me now. More relatable.

'It did. I can't quite explain it to you.'

I smiled as I lay down on the ground next to him and stared up at the stars.

We were both quiet for a while. A comfortable silence; one that need not be corrupted with words for the sake of bringing it to an end.

'I am not doing that again.'


	17. Chapter 17: The Curse

'Are we there yet?'

Serenwen sighed loudly as she trudged languorously behind Farkas, her feet dragging through the autumn leaves littering the ground in the sparse woods.

It was early afternoon. Golden rays of sun streamed through the branches of the trees as the sweet voices of little songbirds chimed in the distance; the mild air smelled of earth and forest. It would have been more enjoyable to her if she had been graced with restful sleep. The past two nights spent camping in the wilds on the way to Autumnwatch Tower had been fruitless; the noise of Farkas struggling and suffering in his slumber had deprived her of the respite she longed for.

'I don't know. I've never been there before.'

He stopped for a moment, his large and heavily muscled frame casting a shadow over her as she watched on curiously.

He frowned as he raised his face slightly and quietly smelled the air, his nostrils flaring a little as he subtly turned his head from side to side, his dark brown hair moving slightly away from his solid neck as he did so.

Serenwen had seen him do it on a frequent basis since they had entered the woods. It confused her. At first she thought that he was simply appreciating the warm and earthy scent of the soil and trees; but as she had continued to watch him, it became apparent that it was an act with some undetermined purpose.

'What are you doing?', she asked bluntly, folding her arms across her chest and shifting her weight onto her back foot. She passed her eyes over his broad back and shoulders as he stood.

He didn't answer; he simply stooped slightly to bring his face a little closer to the ground.

'Stay close.' His monotoned voice was a low growl. 'There are trolls nearby.'

Serenwen frowned slightly as she observed him. 'How do you know that?'

'Just experience.' His pale, dark-rimmed eyes scanned the forest briefly as he began to walk onward, briefly reaching up to touch the hilt of his large two-handed sword in its sheath on his back. 'Don't you have trolls in Morrowind?'

'No. We have other things. All the animals in Morrowind try to kill you. Even the guar.'

He turned slightly to give her a neutral look, dirt smearing his heavy jaw and rugged face. 'What's the guar?'

'Well, not the guar... There's more than one. They're like the cows you have here.'

'You milk them?'

'No.' She blinked and squinted as she raised a hand to shield her eyes from the sun. 'They're for meat and eggs. And to move cargo.'

'Cows in Skyrim don't lay eggs.'

She grinned as he turned to look back at her; her smile dropped when she saw that he wasn't playfully joking.

'Yes... I know that.'

'I've never seen a dark elf with purple eyes before. And most of them are darker than you.'

She wasn't sure if he was inviting her to offer an explanation; he seemed too direct to waste time on such things. She decided not to elaborate.

'Yeah. I used to get picked on for being too pale when I was growing up in Blacklight. My dad is... Was pretty dark.' She paused before continuing, tentatively hoping to shift the topic of conversation from herself. 'I think you're the biggest Nord I've ever seen. Bigger than your brother.'

'Vilkas.' He corrected her neutrally. 'He's the smart one. He has a lot of things to worry about. It makes him short-tempered.'

'But you're not.' She smiled as she took two long strides ahead to walk next to him, looking up at his face. 'I think you were the only person who was nice to me when I got to Jorrvaskr.'

He glanced down at her from the corner of his eye, a small smile crossing his lips. 'We were all whelps once. Vilkas forgets sometimes.'

She felt a warm glow of warmth flourish in her chest.  
The previous weeks had been arduous and difficult to endure; even the small kindnesses that Farkas had shown her were enough to lift her spirits again.

'How did you become a companion?'she asked brightly as she walked alongside him through the trees. He squinted and looked ahead into the sunlight as he began to speak.

'Me and my twin brother were rescued from a group of necromancers when we were small. Our father raised us in Jorrvaskr. We became companions when we got older.'

Serenwen was excited by the fact that he was opening up. Farkas was a man of few words normally; even more so since he had caught her in his bedroom and she had seen him in all his naked glory. She knew that he thought that she was trying to sleep with him, and justifiably so; but the truth was that although she certainly wouldn't decline any advances he might make, she no longer felt the need to know him carnally in order to be comforted by him.

'I have a twin brother too,' she said brightly. It was only as she realised that she was setting herself up to divulge more information than she would like that she regretted mentioning Sahren.

Farkas gave her a mild frown. 'He doesn't travel with you? He should.'

She squirmed a little. 'He's really busy all the time. With his job.' She cast her eyes down to the ground as she walked. 'I should see him more.'

'Family is important.'

Serenwen felt a pang of guilt and sadness as her father came to mind; how he had saved her from death at the hands of Nysteris. She understood now why he had made the choice to become what he was. The guilt she felt at realising that her irresponsible actions had played a significant role in his decision was shameful and hard to bear.

'Stop.'

Serenwen walked into Farkas' back and bumped her nose hard on his steel armour as he stopped in his tracks in front of her and quickly put out his hand; a small yelp escaped from her tattooed lips as her numerous earrings jingled upon the impact.

He was smelling the air again; and this time, Serenwen could smell it too. The faint, sickly scent of bad meat, carried gently on the warm breeze toward them.

'What? What is it?' She said, still holding her aching nose.

'The trolls. Just up there.' He gestured toward the hill with his head. 'Four of them.'

Serenwen was confused again. 'Four? How do you know?'

'Come on. We're taking the long way around.'

His gaze lingered on the grassy hillside for a moment longer before he turned and began to walk deeper into the woods.

A pack of three wolves watched on from the distance, pacing slightly as their stare pierced Serenwen; they were still and silent as the two adventurers passed, and Serenwen felt a sense of nervousness wash over her as she eyed them warily.

'Where are we going? This is the wrong direction, isn't it?' She sped up to walk closer to his side as she spoke; he didn't even look at the wolves as he passed them and spoke quietly and slowly.

'Autumnwatch Tower shouldn't be far away from here. We shouldn't waste our energy tangling with trolls. It's better to avoid them.'

'But there are wolves...'

'Yeah.'

It was as she was trying to understand his reasoning that she heard the loud, guttural snort, followed by the sound of heavy, thudding footsteps.

The trolls were coming.

Excitement and fear pierced Serenwen's heart as she drew her bow and nocked an arrow, crouching and waiting for the troupe to appear at the crest of the hill; Farkas quickly spun around and drew his greatsword from its scabbard on his back, the metal singing against it as he braced himself.

'Damn it.' He snarled slightly. He growled to Serenwen through bared teeth as she stood at the ready. 'Don't bother with that bow. It won't stop them. They don't respond to pain.'

'What?' She barked in an alarmed tone, quickly casting the bow aside and drawing her silver sword. 'Are you serious?'

'Stay focused. You're agile; don't let them hit you.'

Serenwen gritted her teeth as she summoned a flame spell in her right hand; her eyes narrowed as she saw the first of the horrible creatures appear on the horizon, followed by its kin.

'Oh Azura. That's a troll?'

'Try to draw the first one away from the group,' he ordered her loudly. 'We can't take them all at once.'

'How?' She yelped, frowning in utter confusion as she saw Farkas sheath his greatsword. 'What are you doing?'

'Hurry,' he snapped. 'Over there. Into the clearing.'  
She sighed as she felt the adrenaline rush through her veins and turned her attention to the first troll, raising the fire bolt spell in her burning right hand and focusing on her target.

The creature was disgusting.

It reeked of rotting flesh; its ugly third eye gleamed in its forehead as it lurched forward on its knuckles with surprising speed, roaring and frothing at the mouth as it approached, wild malice and aggression written upon its horrific face.

She snarled as she threw the spell forward with all of the speed she could muster; the ball of fire went streaking through the air, sending a glowing reflection across the trunks of the trees as it went, and it exploded onto the chest of the infuriated monster.

'Farkas!'

She cried out in alarm as she saw him stagger forward, his eyes closed and his weapon sheathed as he curled over and tensed his muscles.

She began to panic. Something was wrong.

'Farkas! Wake up!' She screamed, the hysteria swirling in her chest like a storm.

The enraged troll was rapidly approaching.

She began to breathe heavily, desperation overwhelming her as she tried to focus on the task ahead of her.

'Go!' Farkas roared at her, still hunched over with his muscles tensed.

There was no more time left to decide.

The wind rushed past Serenwen's ears as she ran through the trees toward the clearing, gripping her sword tightly as her heart thundered in her head and the sound of her armoured feet pounding on the ground rang out around her.

The troll was faster than she was.

She felt the rush of air over her head as she ducked and rolled and the beast's massive fist swung above her, and a terrible roar rang out from it; she instinctively swung her blade behind her in a strong and swift motion, slashing deep into the side of the monster's knee.

Blood spurted from the deep wound as she wrenched the blade free and sprang backward, the troll bellowing in rage as it staggered; its fetid mouth lined with rotten teeth opened wide as it screamed its blind malice at her.

She exhaled loudly and braced, twirling the sword in her left hand as she quickly raised another fire bolt with her right.

_Remember what father taught you. Aim to disable. Quick, nimble and strong._

She threw the fire at the enraged creature as it blindly charged forward, striking it in the face as it brought its massive fists crashing down; she yelled out with the effort of her swing as she bounced out of the way and brought the sword down point first into its back, burying the blade deeply between its ribs.

It hollered loudly and flexed its back, throwing its arms behind it and striking her in the side of the chest; she gasped in shock and pain as she was flung aside and landed heavily onto the dirt and leaves.

Her sword was still buried in the troll's back. It didn't even pause to remove it as it began to rush toward her again; she desperately tried to crawl away, breathless and suffering, as she summoned an ice spike in her now empty left hand and another firebolt in the other.

The dry leaves on the forest floor burned up as she dragged herself across them with her blazing right hand. The acrid smoke invaded her eyes and nose as she gasped for breath; the pounding of the troll's feet grew heavier as it thundered toward her.

It was then that a noise shattered the ringing in her ears; a sound so immense and terrifying that she almost felt her heart stop beating in her chest.

A roar. But unlike any she had ever heard in its sheer volume and crippling horror; blood curdling. Immense. Unstoppable.

She whimpered at the sound of it as she went to drag herself off the dirt.

The troll skidded to a halt and turned its head at the sound of the noise; and Serenwen saw her chance.

She gritted her teeth against the pain as she stood up and glared at the sword still buried in the monster's flesh, blood dripping down the hilt and pooling on the ground at its feet; and at the same time as she threw the ice spike and the firebolt at the creature's face, she gathered all of her remaining strength and sprinted toward it with all of her might.

She roared as she leaped up onto its back as it bellowed from the impact of the spells, clawing at its eyes. She gripped the top of its head with her right hand as she brutally pulled the blade free with her right; and before the troll could recover from the shock, she put the blade over its head and underneath its neck and pulled back with such effort that she cried out in rage.

The fingers of her right hand instantly began to bleed as the edge of the blade dug into them. The pain seared through her as the troll staggered and choked, the sword sinking deep into its neck and severing its chords and veins; its massive hand flew up to grab her hair as it desperately tried to pull her off.

She snarled loudly, Clenching her teeth as she pulled back harder; blood bubbled and poured from the deepening wound in the beast's neck as it began to falter, falling forward onto its knees as it hollered and ripped loose a huge handful of her hair.

She winced as the hot pain shot across her scalp and she felt the warm blood begin to seep from the raw and burning skin; but her blade did not falter, slicing deeper and deeper into the troll's throat, spilling more and more blood; and before long, it finally fell face down onto the smoldering earth, its life rapidly ebbing away as it gasped for breath through severed pipes.

She didn't let go until she was certain that it had died.

She panted for breath as her blade slid free from the bloody slit on the beast's neck, and she slowly stood to her feet.

The sounds of the forest had returned, dimmed by the laboured noise of her breathing.

But another noise softly echoed from over the small hill near the clearing; the sound of tearing and crunching.

She froze as she remembered. Farkas.

She fought for breath as she sprinted over the little hill, holding her painful ribs in one hand and her sword in the other.

No. He couldn't be dead. Anything but that. Not when she had found the comfort of a friend in him; a benevolent guardian. It was too cruel.

The crunching and popping noise grew louder as she emerged over the peak of the hill.

'Farkas! FARKAS!'

A huge black shape was hunched over the bodies of three dead and badly mutilated trolls in the near distance.

It was massive; bigger even than the mangled carcasses of the trolls it was feasting on.

Rippling muscles covered by a coat of short, dense, glossy black hair; a long, bushy black tail, dripping with the blood of the trolls it was resting in.

Large, pointed ears. A thick black mane of long, coarse hair around its neck. Huge dark claws on its hands and feet; a long, blood-stained muzzle filled with terrible, gleaming white teeth.

A werewolf.

She tried to scream when she saw it; her breath caught in her throat as she stared on in unadulterated terror.

The werewolf lifted its head and turned to look at her as a long pink tongue emerged from its mouth to lick its lips, its glowing yellow eyes focusing on her as it pricked its ears.

Farkas' armour and sword lay on the ground not far away from it.

She couldn't see any trace of his body.

The monster stared at her, its eyes meeting hers in a prolonged gaze of what seemed to be neutral familiarity as she stood with her mouth ajar, trying to suppress her fear; but when it slowly and carefully stood up to its full height and began walking calmly toward her on two legs, she felt the world begin to spin around her as the light faded away.

If this was the way she was destined to die; so be it.

The darkness enclosed her in a comforting embrace as the beast reached her; and before she slipped away, it extended its long arms to carefully break her fall.

The chorus of the forest birds chimed sweetly in the forest as all became dark.


	18. Chapter 18: Persuasion

It was a familiar sensation which woke her.

Warmth. The beautiful feeling of pain and weakness being washed away; a gentle vibration softly knitting together her lacerated flesh and healing her aching bruises.

She frowned as she slowly opened her eyes. Although it was dark now, the bright trails of glowing golden light winding around her body lit up the night around her and reflected from the armour of the one who kneeled above her.

'Hello, princess.'

She opened her eyes wide in surprise at the sound of the smooth, refined voice; so familiar and comforting.

Virdanyis smiled down at her warmly as he held his palm in the space over her chest, the pale light radiating from his hand as it soaked into her tired body. His blue eyes glimmered with affection as the magical glow reflected from his long, silvery scar and shining white hair, neatly tied into a braid that rested on his back and reached all the way down to his hips.

'Uncle...?' She murmured in confusion as she studied his face.

'Be still, little one.' His benevolent smile did not lessen as he softly spoke to her. 'We need to heal your wounds.'

'What are you doing here?' She almost whispered. She became aware that her head was resting on a wad of rolled up material, and her hands and chest had been carefully bandaged. The crackling of a fire and the familiar scent of wood smoke flooded her senses.

'We thought we'd come and lend you two a hand.' He turned his head to look beside him as he spoke.

'You've got a bald patch, murjhul.' Teldryn grinned as his red eyes glowed in the fire and he gestured toward the side of his head and made little circles with an armoured finger. 'You could always shave it all off.'

'Dad?'

A rush of joy and excitement flared within her at the sound of his voice and she quickly went to sit up.

'Ah ah ah.' Virdanyis gently but firmly placed his splayed hand on her chest and pushed her back down to rest on the bedroll. 'We need to finish.'

Teldryn stood up and walked over to kneel at her side, lovingly smoothing his hand over her hair as he spoke to her. 'I was so worried about you.' He grinned. 'I saw what you did to that troll.'

She smiled widely up at him, basking in his presence and approval. 'It wasn't easy.'

'You're still alive. I'm proud of you.'

A feeling of deep shame washed over her as she looked up at him; she bit her lip slightly as she began to speak.

'I'm sorry.'

He nodded softly as he smiled and studied the clump of missing hair on her head. 'I know.'

'I thought you said your father was dead.'

Farkas' deep baritone broke the comfortable silence.

'Oh, you know how it is. Teenagers.' Teldryn turned his head to give the rugged Nord a sly smile. 'The same in every part of Nirn.'

The shimmering golden light slowly faded as Virdanyis withdrew his hand and sat back on his heels, his face turning toward Farkas with a polite and proud smile.

'We have much to thank you for.'

Farkas eyed the Snow Elf warily.

He was one of them. One of the pale elves that frequented his nightmares; and he had the same look about him as the apparition which so often tormented him in his sleep and terrorised his dreams.

'Did you follow us?', he asked sternly.

'No.' Teldryn's voice was calm and flat as he spoke to Farkas, meeting his stare as he continued. 'We have our own business to attend to. Some of it happens to involve Serenwen and requires us to visit Autumnwatch Tower. Call it a convergent coincidence.'

She froze as she suddenly remembered what events had transpired after she had killed the troll in the forest. She released a little gasp as she stared at Teldryn; he quickly shot her a stern glance before he continued. She knew the look well. It meant that she was to remain quiet while he handled the situation.

'So. Would you be averse to entertaining extras on your little expedition? Virdanyis here isn't as soft as he looks.' Teldryn smiled and ignored the droll glance that his friend directed toward him as he focused on his conversation with Farkas.

'Look... I don't really know you. We have things we're supposed to do.'

'Of course.' Virdanyis took over the conversation politely as Teldryn handed Serenwen a bottle of potion. 'We don't wish to obstruct you, friend. But perhaps you would lend your ear while we explain ourselves to you in a little more detail.'

Virdanyis could tell that Farkas didn't trust him, and he knew why. It was unfortunate, and made things needlessly difficult; but there was no getting around it. It was easy to understand why Farkas was wary. From his limited knowledge of the Snow Elves and his dealings with them, they may as well have been dremora.

'Ok. Go ahead.'

Virdanyis smiled politely before he continued.

'You have most likely by now realised what I am, friend.'

'You're a Snow Elf.'

'Indeed.' He gave another small, polite smile. 'I am also an uncle to our dear Serenwen and a General formerly serving under the leadership of Queen Nysteris; the saviour of my kind. You may know her as the Dragonborn.'

Farkas gave him a serious and startled glare before turning to stare at Serenwen as she was unwinding the bandages from her newly healed flesh.

'You're half snow elf?'

'She is.' Virdanyis politely redirected Farkas' attention back onto himself. 'Queen Nysteris is her mother.'

Farkas was a little taken aback.

Serenwen certainly didn't look like a princess. Or a snow elf. She hadn't mentioned anything to him about what Virdanyis was telling him; she had always identified as Dunmer. But now, as her uncle patiently explained the situation, she simply watched on, a mild expression of awkwardness on her face.

'Why would you let her join the companions?', he asked warily. 'There is bad blood between your kind and mine.'

'Oh, believe me. I wasn't happy.'

'Stop it, dad. You're embarrassing me.'

Virdanyis ignored them as he continued. 'I bear no ill will toward you, brother. There is no Falmer blood on your hands. We have no reason to harbour hatred toward the companions on a personal level.' His face became solemn as he continued. 'Our Queen, however, would see it differently.'

'Why?,' he asked, his voice low and rumbling. 'Isn't she as sensible as you?'

Virdanyis frowned a little before he spoke again; Teldryn uncorked a bottle of Sujamma and passed it to Serenwen as he watched the conversation intently.

'She is a very old entity. Due to a variety of circumstances, she has been alive for a long time; Her hatred of your order is a result of her father's death at the hands of Ysgramor's armies at The Battle Of The Moesring.'

The words Virdanyis spoke began to fade away as the realisation dawned upon Farkas like a terrible sickness.

'What...' He began. His brow furrowed and his lip curled into a confused snarl as his mind raced, and he tried to absorb what Virdanyis was implying; the nightmares. The battlefield, the Snow Prince, the bloodshed...

'You're the ones doing this to us?'

His voice was a low snarl; his angered gaze pierced Virdanyis as he sat in front of him, his armoured forearm resting across his knee.

The snow elf didn't flinch as he calmly met Farkas' stare with an undaunting one of his own.

'No. Not a single Mer in The Vale would ever endorse such terrible actions against those with no blood on their hands.' A small silence followed as Teldryn and Serenwen both stared intently at Farkas, assessing his temperament.

'Our Queen is... Afflicted.'

Farkas already knew what was being implied.

'The vampire... The one who torments us. That's your queen?'

'Yes.'

'I know how this must sound to you.' Teldryn stood up slowly and spoke in a calm and firm tone as he looked at Farkas. 'But you must believe that we are not your enemies. Serenwen has been put equally at risk by her association with your group. Nysteris bears no love for her daughter and would kill her if she knew of her membership in your ranks.'

'Then we'll kick her out.' Farkas turned his offended glare onto Serenwen, a feeling of violation flowing through him as he narrowed his eyes and stared at her; she turned her face away in sadness at his gaze.

'Not so fast.' Teldryn folded his arms and stared at Farkas sternly.

'We know of the curse that afflicts you and your brother.'

Virdanyis' gentle and calm tone brought the confused Nord back down to earth. A long and awkward silence ensued.

'How?' He almost whispered.

'The affliction that has taken our queen has kept her bound to this world for a long time. She has... Watched you for many years.'

'What do you want from me? Why are you here?'

Virdanyis and Teldryn glanced at eachother hesitantly; a slight nod from the dark elf signalled to Virdanyis that he could continue.

'General Sero's hand was forced when The Queen's affliction endangered the life of his daughter... In order to protect her from a creature as fearsome as Nysteris, he had to adopt her curse.'

A shimmering ripple passed across the surface of Teldryn's skin as he slowly cast off his illusion, and Farkas stared on in shock as the facade was cast aside.

Teldryn gave a sad, almost undetectable smile as his glowing orange eyes lit up in the darkness around him; he waited for a few moments before he began to speak, his sharp canines visible as he moved his lips.

'Far be it from me to judge you for your condition, serjo.' He cast his eyes down as he spoke, running across the palm of his hand with his thumb. 'I know how it feels to be cursed.' He observed the bewildered Farkas for a moment, allowing the revelation to sink in before he began to explain.

'To put it in simple terms, we are here because we are seeking a cure.'

'I can't help you.' Farkas was firm. 'It's sad what's happened to you. But I can't do anything about it.'

'Ah, but you can.'

Serenwen frowned in surprise as she looked up at her father.

'There is an important detail that may influence your decision, friend.' Virdanyis stared at Farkas intently as he spoke calmly and slowly.

'In curing Nysteris and Teldryn... You will also cure yourselves.'


	19. Chapter 19: Dragon

I heard her breath shudder as her purple eyes widened and she looked up at the trap door at the top of the ladder, fear and uncertainty taking hold of her sensibilities.

I felt for her.

Much had happened in the preceding days. Secrets had been revealed, blood had been spilled; I was saddened by what she had been forced to endure.  
But as I looked at her, even in her state of fear, I saw her temperance.

A weaker woman would have crumbled.

And I knew then that her hesitation was not borne of weakness; It was simply inexperience.

'I hope you know what you're doing.'

Farkas' voice boomed and echoed in the damp stonewall corridor as the sound of dripping water pattered in the distance. His bulky frame was bathed in the pale blue light of the Candle Light orb that Virdanyis had helpfully cast on him; it hovered in the air next to his head like a benevolent little star.

'Oh yes. We've done this before.' I smiled at him, my eyes lighting up the darkness around my face as he stared at me warily. 'In any case we can progress no further without dealing with it.'

'Huh.' He grunted. 'Alright. But you'll need to ground it before I can help.'

'We will do our best.' Virdanyis' right hand lit up with a bright white glow; he clenched his fist and then stretched his fingers through his ancient Falmer gauntlets as he spoke, focusing on Farkas. 'We will need you to be ready to act quickly once the dragon is out of the sky, if you please.'

'You want me to stay out of the way until then?'

'It would be best.'

He nodded slowly, his thick arms folded across his iron cuirass. 'And we get the fragments after the dragon is dead.'

'Precisely.'

I heard a small sigh emerge from Serenwen as she looked up at the half-shattered trapdoor, absently wringing her hands.

It was raining outside, and the sky was pitch black. The moon and stars were obscured by the thick, dark grey clouds; it made the gravity of the situation more apparent.

I knew that the others didn't want to fight at night. But it was necessary for me to do so. I wouldn't be able to heal otherwise.

'Serenwen.' I spoke her name softly as I turned to face her and reached for the scabbard at my side; she snapped out of her troubled musings and shot me a startled glance.

'I have something for you.'

I slowly drew the sword and laid it across the palms of my hands as I presented it to her; she stepped forward, a small frown of concentration on her face as she reached out to touch the blade with her fingertips.

'A sword?'

'Not a regular sword, my dear. This is Dragonbane. It belonged to your mother.'

She looked up at me in mild surprise, her hand hovering in the air just above the cold metal of the sword; Farkas craned his neck to see it as Virdanyis waited patiently next to the ladder.

'How did you get it...?'

'It was in her armoury. Not a riveting tale of treasure hunting, I'm afraid.' I smiled at her as she picked it up by the hilt and rose it up to the candle light to examine it.

'It's perfect.' Her voice was almost a whisper.

'You can dual wield it. Remember what I taught you about dexterity.'

'I know, dad.'

A small smile appeared on her lips as she beheld the sword; I was relieved that presenting it to her had created the intended effect of building her confidence.

'Shall we get started then?'

Virdanyis rubbed his wrist idly as his hand glowed a little brighter; Farkas turned his gaze from Serenwen to Virdanyis and I as he waited for confirmation.

'Are you ready, murjhul?' I asked her softly.

'Yes.' Her voice was strong and confident as she passed her gaze between the three of us; Virdanyis smiled and raised an eyebrow toward me as she confidently turned and placed her foot on the first rung of the ladder, the rain from the dark sky falling through the shattered trapdoor and pattering gently on her head. 'Let's get this over with.'

We could hear its breathing as it roosted idly atop the word wall and we emerged from the tower; great rushes of air, low and deep.

I could make it out clearly as I crouched near the door in front of the others; its long, scale-plated neck stretched down toward the ground, its long horns arching up behind its head like the adornments of a terrible crown. Its wings were tucked away neatly at its sides; I frowned. I had been hoping for a greater ease of access to them.

I knew that I would need to direct the others. I was the only one among them who could see clearly in the darkness; I quickly began to make a plan as we crouched near the wooden door, and Farkas and Serenwen stared wide-eyed into the night, trying in vain to see the creature from which the noise was emanating.

'Farkas.' I whispered loudly to him. 'Take Serenwen over there. Stay hidden.'

He nodded and crept over to her, taking her hand in his own as he guided her away.

I was more than a little surprised to see a pink flush travel quickly up her neck and into her cheeks as her eyes became wide at the touch of his hand.

Serenwen?

I momentarily lost focus of what I was doing as I registered the mild astonishment.  
I hadn't planned for her to become attached to one of these men; a companion.

I snapped out of it as I felt Virdanyis poke me in the side with his finger.

'Concentrate.' His whisper was authoritative and polite; I turned to glance at him as I regained my focus.

'To the right. Bind the right wing as it spreads. I'll do the left.'

'Initial distraction?'

'Firebolt.' I raised my hand, summoning the effect of the spell so that he could see it; he nodded quickly.

'Summon your atronach immediately after.'

His left hand tensed as the dim purple glow surrounded it and he readied his spells; I took a deep breath as I took my position and intensified the spell in my right hand.

This was it. There was no turning back now.

I clenched my teeth and snarled as I broke the silence and hurled the firebolt toward the dragon's face.

As the glowing fire raced through the dark sky toward the beast, Virdanyis and I both released our atronachs in perfect synchrony. The portals to oblivion loudly hummed and swirled as the fearsome creatures stepped forward; one of frost and one of flame, both already agitated and eager for war.

And it was then that the dragon was alerted to our presence.

The night lit up as the firebolt connected with the dragon's muzzle. It jerked its neck upward in shock, a high-pitched screech pealing from its chest; and as it overcame its confusion and saw the atronachs through the darkness, it opened its terrible, toothed mouth and released a deafening roar.

I summoned the binding spell as soon as the creature began to spread its wings; if was the gesture I had been waiting for.

'Now!'

The darkness was lit up as if by a lightning strike as a loud hissing cracked through the air, and a long stream of solid, palest blue magical energy lashed forth from the right hand of Virdanyis and raced to wrap itself around the centre of the dragon's right wing.  
He gritted his teeth and snarled as he grounded himself with his feet and wrenched his hand backward, pulling the great beast forward as it tried to take off.

'Teldryn! Do it!' He shouted to me over the deafening sound of the dragon's enraged roars.

I felt the adrenaline rush through me as I channeled a binding spell of my own; the powerful, dark energy began to build within me like a storm, rising from deep inside as it manifested in my hands and the flame atronach began to sling its fire.

The long tongue of black and red fire exploded forth from my palm in a surge of frenetic release, slicing through the night air as it connected with the left wing of the dragon and coiled around it like a snake, perforating its webbing and searing its flesh.

The dragon bellowed in outrage; it tried to spread its wings again as Virdanyis and I both steeled ourselves for the struggle ahead.

We both dug our heels into the dirt and pulled forward with all of our strength.

We were dragged forward as the monster screamed and reared up, spreading its wings as far as it was able, its mouth gaping so widely that it almost appeared unhinged. I heard Virdanyis gasp with the effort as he almost stumbled forward, and he snarled and clenched his teeth as he increased the intensity of the spell.

Sharp and jagged shards of ice began to shoot out from the blue-white binds that constricted the dragon's wing as it remained tethered to the Snow Elf's arm. He began to summon an ice spike in his left hand as the strength of the infuriated dragon began to drag him forward.

The beast was stronger than I had anticipated. Even with both wings bound and both Virdanyis and I at a removed distance, we were putting ourselves at more risk than I had expected. Our best chance was to damage its wings and cause it to fall from the word wall, giving Farkas and Serenwen the chance to deal close and grievous damage; but it was going to be a difficult task.

I began to manifest a ball of blood magic in my left hand as I quickly glanced at Virdanyis, gritting my teeth in concentration and sheer effort as I roared to him over the noise.

'Now!'

He was already a step ahead of me.

We both released our projectiles in unison, and then, in perfect synchrony, poured every last ounce of our strength into our pull.

The magic tethers rippled like flicked cords as we both cried out with the effort. My arms burned and my heart pounded; the world around me blurred and became a haze of rage and determination as I fought with all of my strength.

The muscles rippled beneath the white skin of Virdanyis's biceps as he pulled hard upon the ice tether, his teeth clenched and his eyes fierce and hardened. I had never seen him engaged in battle before; his ferocity and determination was a startling polarity from his refined and agreeable demeanour at other times. My breath hissed through my teeth as I continued to pour all of my effort into pulling the dragon from the wall, the night lighting up all around me with the intensity of the magic.

The dragon staggered as it struggled to keep its grip on the rock beneath it; and then, as it was about to fall, it pointed its terrible mouth toward Virdanyis and unleashed a massive flood of searing flame.

I gasped in horror as I saw it unfold in slow motion.

He quickly flicked his arm and dissolved the ice tether as he rolled out of the way before the flames reached him, missing him by inches, the end of his long braid becoming scorched and singed by it; and even before he finished his manoeuvre he was reaching for the silver bow on his back, his face frozen in a determined sneer as he nocked an elven arrow and aimed for the dragon's left wing joint.

I instantly recognised the opportunity.  
The dragon tilted to the side after the removal of Virdanyis' counter force and bellowed loudly, focusing its rage on him as he released the arrow; and as it hissed through the air and buried itself between the joints of the dragon's wing, I gave a final roar of sheer effort as I ripped the dark flame tether backwards.

The beast screeched in shock as it came crashing to the ground, the earth shaking and stones falling from the wall as it landed heavily on its back. The frost atronach charged forward as the flame atronach backed away and hurled its flaming projectiles; and even in my frenzied state, I smiled manically as I saw the others coming to the battle from the near distance.

The huge, black shape that was the werewolf Farkas streaked over the distance between him and the fallen dragon, bloodcurdling growls echoing from him as he bounded forward on all fours; in a great bound he leaped up upon the dragon's chest, opening his terrible jaws wide as he savagely bit down on the creature's neck, thrashing his head to the left and right, creating deep and bleeding wounds. He dragon screeched and swiftly arched its neck upward, slamming its jaws shut with a resonating thud just inches away from his body.

The flame of bloodlust was alight in me.

I unsheathed my sword and rushed forward with a speed that was strange and alien to me; Virdanyis seemed to move as though mired in mud as I passed him, watching him reach up to remove the silver war spear from its place on his back as though time itself had slowed to almost a standstill.

Everything around me became a strange and bloody blur then.

I felt my sword sinking into flesh; I felt the cold heaviness of scales beneath my hands.

I tasted blood on my lips.

And through the chaotic, languid haze, I looked up and I saw her; Serenwen.

Her armoured foot was planted firmly on the side of the dragon's face; she wielded Dragonbane in one hand and her Falmer sword in the other, and I watched on in wonder through slowed time as she twirled the blades, raising them high above her head as she prepared to bring them down.

Her face was a picture of unbridled rage and domination. Power and strength. She was a vision of her mother.

But it was beautiful; for the insidious evil I had so often seen in Nysteris was absent. And in its place was a blazing righteousness, a nobility I had not seen before. Glory.

I watched on enraptured as her purple eyes lit up in a blaze of frenzy as the blades came down. And as I saw them pierce the dragon's eye, rupturing it like a grisly ball of fluid and blood as they buried deeper and deeper, I knew that we were victorious.

Time sped up as the deafening scream of the dragon shot through my head like a bolt of pain; Farkas continued to rip open the dragon's neck as Serenwen struggled to keep her balance, her face twisted with determination as she buried her blades ever deeper into the monster's skull.

A massive thud reverberated through the ground as the beast became limp and fell backward, dead; Serenwen teetered for a moment before ungracefully falling from her place on its head, leaving her swords in its eye socket.

The pattering rain was the only sound other than our heavy breathing as we watched on; Farkas slowly leaped down from the Dragons' chest and came to sit on the ground like a massive hunting hound next to us, his long pink tongue panting for breath as he became still.

Serenwen's eyes became wide as the great corpse began to smoulder; and as the ribbons of light, the brilliant streaks of the dragon's soul rushed to enter her body, we watched on in awe.

She was complete now. Her own dragon's soul had finally tasted the death of one of its own; and the way had become clear.

And even while drenched in blood, rain and sweat, we were all smiling.


	20. Chapter 20: Joined

The initiation ceremony had been a proud and glorious moment for her.

Her chest had swelled with pride as she had presented the fragments of Wuuthrad to Vilkas, and the companions had gathered around; Farkas had stood by her side and spoken of her bravery and skill as everybody had watched her, and Teldryn and Virdanyis had looked on from the sidelines.

She didn't know how the conversation between they and Vilkas had gone. But judging form the merry disposition of everybody in Jorrvaskr now, and the way that Vilkas and Virdanyis in particular seem to have found some common ground, all was going to plan.

'Look at them. Drunk again. They'll take any excuse.' Finya folded her arms and scoffed, smiling at the noisy rabble as they laughed and smashed their flagons together, singing loud songs of battle and glory. 'Give it another hour. They'll stagger over and tell you that you've got beautiful eyes and grab your ass.'

'Is that what you're waiting for, sera?' Serenwen gave a sly, taunting smile as she glanced at her Nordic friend and drank from her mead flagon. 'I knew there was a reason why a girl my age would want to hang around with a group of hairy drunkards.'

Finya punched the Elf's shoulder lazily as she grinned, spilling her drink slightly. 'You're disgusting. It's awkward enough in here without everybody bedding eachother.'

'Eh. Your loss.' Serenwen shrugged slightly as she watched Farkas and the others laughing and drinking from her seat on the bench. 'I haven't tried a Nord yet.'

Finya stared at her in surprise, taken aback by her new friend's directness.

'Well. I wasn't expecting that.'

'I just haven't had the time.'

'That isn't what I meant, big ears.' She laughed slightly as she spoke over the loud noise. 'You've... Tried others?'

Serenwen frowned at Finya in mild confusion. 'Men? Of course I have. What a stupid question.' She shook her head slightly as she turned her gaze ahead of her again. 'You talk as if you're innocent.'

'I can tell you didn't grow up in Skyrim.' Finya grinned and drained the rest of the mead from her mug before reaching over to the keg next to her to pour another. 'We aren't supposed to talk so openly about that stuff here. You'll get a bad reputation.'

'We Mer are more sensible about such things.' Serenwen gave a cunning smile as she glanced at her friend. 'There is no point in denying yourself such pleasures. As long as you stay away from the married ones, nobody cares.'

Finya was surprised. As well as being taken aback by the bluntness of it, she was bewildered by the statement in general.

'No Nords then? Really?'

'No. Only Mer. I've only really spent time in Morrowind and The Vale. Not many humans about.'

Finya was curious; she paused for a moment before quietly pressing on.

'So... Snow Elf men?'

Finya glanced over at Virdanyis from across the room as he sat next to Vilkas, engaging him in some kind of pleasant and lengthy discussion.

Serenwen grinned widely as she noticed it.

'Snow Elves have made courtship into an art. They all have honeyed words and lingering glances. Very respectful and eloquent and all that. It's all sweet seduction and elegant, tastefully erotic poetry. They can talk you into anything.' She rolled her eyes slightly as she spoke. 'If you want to feel special and highly prized, you won't do better. They compete for females not with bravado or chest-beating; they simply strive to be more alluring than their rivals and out-charm the competition. They let the girls choose and they almost never say no. Courtship in The Vale is all the wrong way around.' She smiled dryly as she cast her eyes down into her mug of mead. 'You can imagine the bottleneck that the more artful ones have to endure as a result. My uncle never seems to get any sleep.' She raised an eyebrow. 'They worship their women.'

'I can't even picture it.' Finya grinned widely, an excited and mischievous expression on her face as she leaned closer to Serenwen and chewed vigorously on the greasy roasted meat she held in her hand. A faint red flush had appeared on her cheeks as she listened, enraptured by Serenwen's tales of exotic elven men. The considerable amount of mead that both of them had consumed had served as an excellent social lubricant, and the two girls had quickly found themselves to have more in common than they might have otherwise thought.

'If you want real fun after the sun goes down, though, and you don't plan on walking far the morning after... Go and visit a dark elf.'

Finya almost sprayed her mouthful of mead all over her lap. She swallowed hard and clapped a hand over her mouth as she laughed loudly; she doubled over as Serenwen smiled sweetly at Athis from across the room and gave him a little wave.

The dark elf gave her a confused and annoyed frown before turning to focus on the men he was standing with.

'Falmer men make love. Dunmer men fuck. And how.'

'That language is most unbecoming of you, murjhul.'

Serenwen jumped a little in shock and embarrassment as Teldryn placed a heavy hand on her shoulder and swung his leg over the bench, sitting himself down heavily between the two girls. He smiled antagonistically at his daughter as he drank from his jar of Sujamma.

'Dad...' She began, a dark scowl crossing her face.

'Oh, don't mind me.' His bright red eyes blazed in the glow of the fire. 'What were we talking about again?'

'Nothing.' Serenwen pouted as Teldryn gave a satisfied smirk and Finya began to laugh loudly.

'She gets so shy when I meet her friends.' Teldryn murmured to Finya as he winked at her and ruffled Serenwen's hair with his hand.

'I'll be back in a minute.' Finya laughed and shook her head gently as she got up and made her way over to the firepit.

'Did you really have to do that, dad?' Serenwen sighed loudly and stared ahead of her with an expression of pained tolerance as Teldryn gently flicked her ear, making her earrings jingle loudly.

'Yes. Name one father who wants to hear that kind of smut emerging from his daughter's mouth.' He pinched her cheek gently and grinned broadly at her, seemingly relishing her annoyance. 'You are a companion now. It won't do to have you corrupting your shield sisters and tainting your name. The Nords have different ways, my dear.'

She turned her head to study his face; he smiled lovingly back at her as she saw the faintest ripple of the illusion spell he was maintaining, emanating from him like tiny waves of heat.

'...thank you.'

'For what?'

'For letting me do this.' She smiled as she gently rested her head on his strong shoulder; he gave her a quick kiss on the forehead as he rested his arm across her neck.

'You would have done it anyway.' He drank from the Sujamma jar as he watched Virdanyis and Vilkas from across the room. 'You know that I have to take you back to The Vale tomorrow though.'

'Yeah.' She sat up and drained the last of the mead into her mouth. 'I kind of figured that out.'

Teldryn was quiet for a moment as he observed Farkas from a distance, a wide smile on the big Nord's handsome face as he drank and spoke with his fellow companions.

'You should leave him be for the time being, my dear.'

Serenwen felt a flare of surprise and embarrassment flood through her at her father's words.

She should have known that he couldn't have missed it.

'But I don't... I mean, he doesn't...'

'It isn't that I disapprove.' His voice was calm and soothing. 'It wouldn't matter to you if I did. But there is still much that has yet to pass, Serenwen. None of us know where we will end up. Take your father's advice and keep your heart in your own hands until it is over, little one.'

She opened her mouth to speak and correct him; but she remained quiet.

She hadn't realised until now that he had been through unimaginable suffering during his love affair with her mother, and that the advice he was giving her was a result of it. He didn't want her to invest her feelings in someone who may end up dead in a few week's time; he wanted to spare her the agony he had endured from giving his heart away.

'Okay.'

He squeezed her shoulder and gave her another peck on the forehead before going to stand up.

'I love you, yi merdekhes dalder.'

'I love you too, dad.' She smiled up at him.

'Now. I know that I can outdrink your uncle. Let's see what these Nords are made of.'


End file.
